


Piercing Sunlight

by ficbunnyKay



Series: Piercing Sunlight [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bartender Marco Bott, Biting, Blow Jobs, Choking, Come Swallowing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Dramedy, Drinking, Dry Humping, Eren Yeager is a Little Shit, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Reader, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Gen, Grinding, Halloween, Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Reader, Jealousy, Lemon, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Making Out, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, POV Second Person, Piercer Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Porn With Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Premature Ejaculation, Public Display of Affection, Reader-Insert, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Submissive Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Tattooed Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 93,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficbunnyKay/pseuds/ficbunnyKay
Summary: You are a college student living in an apartment with your roommate, Sasha. You are seeking a personal change, and at the advice of your friends, Armin and Jean, you decide to get a cartilage piercing. In doing so, you make an unlikely connection with the piercer, Levi, whose attention you effortlessly capture, and whose affections you will eventually win...Special thanks to @kiwifr0g for being my faithful editor. You rock!Updated every Sunday EST.
Relationships: Eren Yeager/Reader, Furlan Church/Isabel Magnolia, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir, Levi/Reader, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager, Sasha Blouse/Connie Springer
Series: Piercing Sunlight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124939
Comments: 501
Kudos: 753
Collections: My Fav Fics





	1. to Get a Piercing

**Author's Note:**

> This chilled, comedic chapter is mostly exposition and character introductions. I am already working on several new chapters and hope to update very soon. This is my first chapter of my first fanfic I've ever posted on here, so please be gentle with me :)

“Sashaaaaa, get out of the shower! I still have to brush my teeth! I’m gonna be late for class!” 

From within the bathroom, you hear, “You can brush your teeth while I’m in here! I’ll just unlock the door!” The lock clicks. “Okay, you can come in now!” 

You open the bathroom door and are immediately smothered by steam. The bathroom of the tiny apartment you share with Sasha is reasonably clean, but it, like the rest of the apartment, does not really have enough space for two people to live in without butting heads at least a bit. And today, on the first day of classes of your first semester of your junior year in college, you are in no mood for butting heads. You’re pretty responsible, and you hate the idea of being late on your first day and making a bad impression. 

As you brush your teeth, you say, “Hey, Sash? I was thinking… I might want to get my cartilage pierced. You know, as a little appearance change for the new year.” 

“Yeah? Which side?” 

“I haven’t decided yet, but probably the right I guess. Do you think it’s a good idea?” 

The shower shuts off and a hand emerges from behind the curtain to grab a towel. “Yeah, definitely! Super edgy and cute.” 

“Hm.” You finish brushing your teeth and examine your face in the mirror, tilting your head to look at your right ear and pinch the place where you want to add the piercing. “I don’t know where to go, though, to get it done. I mean, I’m pretty nervous, so I want to go somewhere I know is safe and reliable.” 

Sasha steps out of the shower with her towel wrapped around her torso. She passes behind you and out into the hallway as she says, “You could always go where I went.” 

Finished in the bathroom, you exit behind her and follow her through the apartment. “Huh? You don’t have any piercings. Well, besides the lobes, but I’m pretty sure you got those done at a Piercing Pagoda when you were ten, just like everyone else.” 

She passes into her bedroom to change and you lean your back against the door after she shuts it. “Sure, I do! I got my bellybutton pierced last year. Didn’t I tell you?” 

“What?!” You exclaim. “No, no you did not! Believe me, I would have remembered.” 

Sasha emerges from her bedroom, dressed in a tank top and a tennis skirt, her hair wrapped up into a twisted towel hat to dry. “Well, I did. Here, look.” She lifts her tank top, exposing her toned stomach with-- you can’t believe it-- two sparkling pink gems decorating her bellybutton. 

She lowers her shirt again and blows past you into the kitchen. “Sasha, I had no idea you were so… hot.” You both laugh. 

“Well, now you know,” she says. “I went to the Tattooery. Have you heard of it?” 

You have. “Yeah, but I thought that was just, you know, for tattoos?” 

Sasha roots through the pantry, looking for breakfast. You wander into the adjoining living room to finish packing your backpack for the day as she explains, “Well, it is, mostly. But they have this one guy there that does piercings, Levi. You can walk in and get one done whenever, but if he’s not there, you’re out of luck. So, if you want to be sure, you need to call ahead and make sure he’s in that day before you go. He’s really good. I know because I was terrible about cleaning this thing but I still didn’t get an infection, so he must have done a good job.” 

“Huh.” You zip up your backpack and throw it over your shoulder. “Well, maybe I’ll go there, then. I just feel like I need a change. I mean, I just turned twenty-one, and I still feel like I’m the same person as when I graduated high school. It’s getting too boring.” 

“Yeah, you’re way too boring,” Sasha says, taking a bite of a granola bar, and you pout at her. “I’m kidding, (y/n).” 

“I know, I know.” You pull your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the time. “Shit. I gotta go.” 

“Okay,” Sasha says, her mouth full. She swallows as you march to the door, and then calls out after you, “You were gonna make dinner tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna pick up some stuff at the grocery store after my classes. Just text me if you want anything else. Bye!” You shut the door behind you. _Levi at the Tattooery,_ you think to yourself. _Huh. Well, if it’s good enough for Sasha, it’s good enough for me, I guess._

~~~

After your first class, you head to the Student Union to buy lunch. You’re supposed to meet your friends Armin and Jean there to eat together. You said you would meet at noon… It’s almost 12:15 when you arrive, so you figure you’ve still beat them by about ten minutes and have time to get your food before you sit down to wait for them. You decide to get a Cobb salad from Chick Fil A. After getting your food, you sit down at an empty table for four in the bustling student union. You decide to wait to eat until your friends get here, and look around, anxiously waiting for them to arrive so that you don’t look like a loser for much longer. 

After a couple minutes, you see them walk in side by side, deep in a conversation that looks like it’s very entertaining. Armin turns his head forward first, immediately spotting you. Smiling, he waves at you, and you return the wave with equal enthusiasm. When they reach your table, you stand up to give them both hugs. You haven’t seen them since the end of last semester, after all. 

“Aw, there’s my boys!” You exclaim warmly, pulling both of them into your arms. “Hi, (y/n),” they reply in unison, Armin smiling and Jean rolling his eyes. You and Jean sit down across from each other as Armin says, “I’m gonna go get our food, Jean,” and then dutifully walks off. You start to prep your salad, applying the dressing and closing the container to shake it until it’s evenly tossed. 

“You’re gonna let him order for you?” you ask Jean after Armin is out of earshot.

Jean scoffs. “No. We ordered with the app on the walk here, so it should be packaged and ready by now.” 

“Oh, cool. Where’d you order from?” 

“McDonalds,” Jean says, grinning at you mischievously. You hate McDonalds, and he knows it. 

You play into the bit and mock a gag as you reopen your salad to start eating. “Ugh. I don’t know how you can eat that shit.” By the time you finish speaking, Armin has already returned. He sits down on your left with a sharp exhale, dropping one bag in front of Jean and one bag in front of himself. “That was fast,” you comment. 

“I’m pretty hungry, and I actually don’t have much time before my next class,” Armin explains, already unwrapping a burger. “I have maybe fifteen minutes before I have to start walking there.” 

“What class?” you ask. 

“It’s my architecture workshop. First one ever… six hours long.” 

You and Jean both exclaim in horror. Armin laughs lightly at your reactions. “I know, I know, but I’ve heard it really isn't bad. It’s not like a six hour lecture. You’re actually doing stuff. You’re busy.” He takes a bite and then asks you through a full mouth, “Anyway, how are you? What’s going on?” 

“Oh, I’m good. The usual. You know.” 

“How’s it living with Sasha?” Jean asks. You'd just moved in with her a couple weeks before the start of the semester. You’d met through your shared biology major and had become close friends, but this is your first time living together somewhere. 

“She’s great,” you smile. “It’s Sasha, you know. She’s sweet and funny. I know it’s early, but I think it’s going to be a good year with her. I mean, as a roommate, so far she’s clean and doesn’t make noise at nighttime, and that’s really all I’m looking for.” 

“I’m surprised she isn’t already eating you out of house and home,” Jean jokes. 

“Oh, she is,” you say, chuckling. “But we split the cost of groceries so it’s not terrible. Besides, I get plenty of opportunities to practice my cooking skills.” You take a bite of your salad. “Oh, hey, how’d it go with that guy the other day?” 

Jean grimaces, shaking his head. “Eh. Neh. Not good.” You and Armin glance at each other and grin as Jean launches into an explanation. “I mean, he was fine, I guess. I only met him on a dating app, so I wasn’t expecting much. We just had a drink and talked some. I think he wanted to take me home with him, but during the date he did proudly tell me that he, quote, ‘beat herpes,’ so I wasn’t keen. Serves me right for trying to have a nice date using Grindr. Blegh. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Back to you, (y/n). Ooh, I know-- what’s up with you and Eren?” 

You roll your eyes, trying to stifle a blush and a grin. “Nothing.” Both boys’ eyes are on you as you say this, and Armin shakes his head, his mouth full, not believing you for a second. 

“We don’t believe that for a second,” Jean translates. “There’s always something going on with you guys.” 

“No, there’s not!” you protest. “There’s not _always something going on_ with us.” You sigh. “And there’s really not now, since he’s been abroad for the past three months.” 

“You guys haven’t kept in touch?” Jean asks, surprised and a little judgmental.

“I mean, kind of. We’ve texted a little bit, but mostly small talk. I really don’t do well over text. I can only communicate well in person or over the phone, and he’s in a different time zone, so we don’t talk much.”

“Mm! Mmm!” Armin exclaims through a full mouth, tapping your shoulder. 

Amused, you look at Jean and say, “I think he’s trying to tell us something.” 

“It’s like trying to communicate with Lassie,” he jokes, and you giggle. 

Armin is unfazed, and after swallowing, says to you, “You know he’s back, right?” 

You hadn’t. “What?” you exclaim. “I thought he wasn’t coming back until mid-September, and it’s still the tail end of August.” 

“He wasn’t, but he didn’t want to miss the first few weeks of his classes, so he managed to get his supervisor in the internship to let him go early. He’s still getting full credit and all. They must have really liked him over there.” 

“What was he doing, again?” you ask.

“Something. I don’t really get it. I think he was basically being a runner for some diplomat in the EU. But that can’t be all it was, though, because he sure did have lots of opportunities to tell people his opinions.” 

“Of course he was telling everyone his opinions,” Jean cuts in. “He’s a political science and communications double major. I swear, that guy thinks he’s so fantastic that he can completely smooth out the Middle East with one hand behind his back.” 

“Oh, like _you’re_ so fantastic,” you quip. “Eren’s probably never going to get further than the State Senate, but you’ll probably end up working at a Baskin Robbins, _English Major_.”

“I’m. Also. Minoring. In. French!” 

You smile. Really, you like how ambitious Eren is, even if he can be overbearing sometimes, and you think his and Jean’s constant squabbling is really entertaining. You've always had a little bit of a thing for Eren since you met him through Armin in freshman year. Eren and Armin had been friends for all of high school, and so had you and Jean, so when Jean and Armin were roommates in freshman year, the four of you had become friends. You're pretty sure Eren has always been a little interested in you as well. You and him have always had a bit of a back-and-forth that never seems to turn into anything. 

Jean breaks the silence and says, “I’m sorry, but can we talk about Eren running halfway across the globe just to get away from his girlfriend?” 

“I’m sure that’s not what happened,” you say, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, even if he was dating someone who wasn’t you. 

“Mm…” Armin mumbles skeptically. 

“See? Armin agrees,” Jean says. 

Armin swallows to explain. “No, I don’t, not with either of you. He had that internship lined up for months, before he even met Mikasa. Although, when I spoke to him while he was there, he did say quite a lot about how nice it was to get some space from her. I guess eventually he figured out that he liked his life better without her in it and decided to break up with her while he was overseas where she couldn’t kill him.” 

“What?” you say, confused. 

“What?” Armin says, confused by your confusion. 

“He… broke up with her?” you say tentatively. 

“Yeah,” Armin says matter-of-factly, taking another bite. “You didn’t know that?” 

“No, I didn’t…” you trail off. 

“Oh shit! Oh shit!” Jean laughs, grinning stupidly at you. “Something’s gonna happen! You’re getting ideas!” 

“I am not getting ideas. I don’t have any ideas, or any feelings, or- _anything!_ I’m just thinking…” 

“Oh fuck, I gotta go,” Armin says suddenly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he stands up. “Let me know if you guys want to hang out later this week, okay?” 

“Okay, sweetie, have a good class,” you say. 

“I will!” he calls back to you, already halfway across the seating area in the student union. 

You sigh and turn back to Jean. “You don’t have anywhere to be for a bit, do you?” 

“No, I don’t,” he says. “I’m actually done for the day. I had both my classes in the morning.” 

“Oh, cool. Hey, listen, I’ve been thinking about getting a cartilage piercing. On the right, I think. What do you think?” 

Jean fakes a wince, pulling the length of his hair aside to expose his own pierced right ear as he says, “Ohhh, I don’t know. I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” 

“What?!” you exclaim. “When did that happen?” 

“Last week,” he says, letting his hair fall in front of the piercing again. 

“Damn, everyone keeps getting piercings and not telling me,” you complain. Jean looks confused, so you elaborate: “Sasha, apparently, has had a belly button piercing for a year, and never told me until this morning.” 

“Really? Wow,” Jean says, raising his brows. “I didn’t think she was that kind of girl.” 

“I know, right? Anyway, I told her this morning that I wanted to get my ear pierced, and she said I should go to the Tattooery. Apparently they have a piercing guy there that’s really good. I think she said his name was-” 

“Levi,” Jean cuts you off, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah, I went to him for mine. Sasha’s right, you should go there. Totally safe and sanitary.” 

“Scary?” you ask. 

“Not scary at all,” he assures you. “When are you gonna go?” 

“Oh, um… Soon, I think.” 

“Then let’s go tomorrow. I’ll come with you. Armin, too, I bet; he told me earlier that he’s free.” 

“Really? You want to come along for that? What’s in it for you?” You're skeptical because Jean, while sweet, has the tendency to seek his own entertainment first. 

“I have a good thing going with the desk girl. I flirted with her when I went there last week, and I could tell she was totally digging it. I bet if I went again I could seal the deal,” Jean says, grinning stupidly again. 

You sigh. “Well, that makes sense, then.” You check the time on your cell phone. “Hm, I think I’d better go. I have to go grocery shopping and then make dinner tonight for me and Sasha. But yeah, we can go tomorrow. I’ll text Armin if you call ahead and make sure the piercing guy is in?” 

“His name is Levi,” Jean corrects you. “And yes, I can do that. Let’s meet outside of the Tattooery at, say, 3?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you say, loading the trash from your salad back into the bag it came in and swinging your backpack over your shoulder. “I’ll ask Sasha if she wants to come along, and maybe Eren too. We can make a day of it.” 

“Yeah, cool, okay,” Jean says. 

“You’re not getting up?” you ask, noticing that Jean hadn’t started packing up his stuff yet even though you had. 

“Nah, I’m gonna chill here and do some homework for a while.” 

“Oh okay, cool. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Jean,” you say, turning around to leave. 

“See ya, (y/n)!” he calls out after you. 

_Huh. This is happening really fast. This morning that piercing was barely an idea, and now I have plans to get it done. Oh, well, I wanted a change, and now, here it is. Besides, if I decide I hate it, I can always just take it out and let the hole close up._ You sigh as you emerge from the student union and into the hot August air. Tomorrow is going to be a fun day. 


	2. the Tattooery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are on Sunday with a new chapter! This one was super fun to write, and I hope y'all have fun reading it. This chapter features Levi's intro, and you'll be seeing lots more of him in the next chapter as well. :)

The next day, you storm into your apartment after your afternoon class to quickly freshen up before you head to the Tattooery. The apartment is absent of Sasha, so you have free reign of the bathroom, which is majorly helpful in a time crunch. You rush into the bathroom to look in the mirror. _Oh, dear god,_ you think to yourself. Your hair is a total mess. _Serves me right for leaving it down in the middle of summer_. 

You try to brush it smooth, but it only gets angrier as you keep messing with it. Defeated, you arrange it into a messy bun on top of your head. Next, you grab your mascara and brow pencil and do some touch-up on that day’s makeup look, which has started to deteriorate. After that, you change out of that day’s t-shirt and into a cute tank top, which goes nicely with your jean shorts. You reapply deodorant and a spritz of perfume, grab your keys, wallet, and phone, and fly back out of the door. 

You decide to bike to the Tattooery instead of driving. It’s pretty close, so you figure that parking might make taking a car a bigger time commitment than a bike. You turn on Google Maps on your phone and put your phone in your back pocket, putting your earbuds in so that the robot can relay instructions to you. It’s a pretty easy bike, and you manage to arrive outside of the Tattooery at 3:02. You lock your bike to a lamppost and approach the building. It’s right on the corner of the street, seeming to be the focal point of your little college town. 

As you approach the entrance, you see Armin and Jean already waiting there for you. Sasha had ended up not being able to go. She'd said she had a date. And since Sasha couldn’t go, you'd decided not to ask Eren, because you'd been worried that you wouldn’t be able to deal with that whole thing without your girl. Plus, he and Jean probably would get into a row, which is only fun when you have a partner to help you deal with it. Armin would never get involved and try to stop them-- he's a bit shy for that. 

When you reach them, Jean _tsk-tsk-tsk_ s at you and pantomimes tapping a watch on his wrist. “I’m only two minutes late!” you exclaim. He knows you hate being late, and can't pass up the opportunity to tease you about it. 

“So unprofessional, Miss (l/n),” he jokingly reprimands. 

“You ready, (y/n)?” Armin asks. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer. “Gah, I’m so excited, but I’m also kind of nervous.” 

“It really doesn’t hurt that much,” Jean assures you. “Just a little pinch and a short stab, then it’s over.” 

“The stab part sounds bad,” you fret. 

“Alright, come on, let’s go before you lose your nerve.” Jean pulls you by the arm into the storefront of the Tattooery and Armin follows close behind you. When you enter, Jean approaches the reception desk. Sitting there is a young woman about your age. She has shoulder-length dark hair tied up into a ponytail, revealing an undercut. One of her arms features a full sleeve of tattoos that you can’t quite make out the details of from this distance. “Hello, I called ahead about a piercing appointment for my friend back there,” Jean says, leaning on the reception desk and then gesturing back to you. He’s feigning nonchalance and cocking his head to the side, and even though he’s facing away from you, you just know he has a stupid look on his face. 

You sense Armin tense up next to you and notice he is pointedly looking away from the reception desk. You turn to him and whisper, “What?” 

He glances back at you and shakes his head sharply. He would explain later. You turn your attention back to Jean and the receptionist, with whom he supposedly had ‘a good thing going.’ 

“Name?” she asks him. 

“Jean,” he says coolly. “I guess you’re pretty eager to get to know me.” You bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing at this. 

The receptionist looks back at him coldly and says, “No, I meant the name the appointment is under.” 

“Oh. Um, (y/n),” Jean stumbles. However, he regains his confidence quickly, and as the receptionist looks for your appointment on the computer, he says, “So, do you recognize me?”

She glances in his direction. “No. Should I?” 

“I was here last week, for this,” Jean replies, tilting his head to reveal his piercing. “I’m pretty good at tolerating pain, I guess,” he brags, thinking that this would be a hot thing to say. 

It isn’t, however, and at this, the receptionist stands and begins to cross the room, pausing to look at you and say, “Levi will be right out for you.” 

“Great, thanks,” you say to her turned back as she walks off and into a side room. This calls your attention to the rest of the establishment. There are a few chairs that almost look like those massage chairs that you face forward on to get a back rub. One of them holds a man with his shirt off being tattooed on his shoulder blade by a woman with rust-colored hair and glasses. She, too, has many tattoos up her arms, just as the receptionist did. Armin steps in front of your field of vision, interrupting your observations. “That was Mikasa,” he says. 

“What?” you ask. “Who was?” 

“The receptionist. That was her.” 

You gasp and give a huge smile. “Whaaaaat? That’s crazy!” You've never seen Mikasa before, since you've never met her and Eren hasn’t posted her at all on any social media. You guess Armin must have met her at some point. He's a lot closer with Eren than you are, after all. 

“What’s crazy?” Jean asks, sauntering to where you and Armin are standing. 

You laugh a low, steady belly laugh as Armin says to Jean, “The receptionist? That’s Mikasa. That’s the girl Eren just broke up with. I’m pretty sure she recognized me.”

Jean’s face takes on an expression of tremendous horror. “That… That was Eren’s ex-girlfriend? _I just hit on Eren’s ex-girlfriend?!_ ” 

You laugh harder. “That was so bad!” you cry out. 

“Yikes, well I can’t date her then,” Jean resolves. 

You stifle your laughter so as to really rip into him. “Oh, right, because that’s the only reason you won’t be going out with her. That-” your laughter cuts you off, and you have to compose yourself again. “That was the _worst_ thing I have _ever_ seen. I wish I’d been filming.” 

Armin chuckles in spite of himself as Jean says, “What was so bad about that? I thought I was doing really well.” 

“Well, aside from the fact that nothing you said was remotely enticing, she looked like she was ready to kill you just as soon as look at you.” 

“That just means it’s working,” Jean reasons, smiling and shrugging his shoulders. 

“Jesus Christ, I can’t deal with y-” 

“Hey, which one of you is getting their ear pierced?” An interruption comes from behind the three of you, who had turned yourselves to face away from the reception desk to gossip. You snap your head around to see who has spoken. In front of you is a man with short, dark hair and a shorter undercut. Multiple piercings decorate his ears. Above his sharp, narrow eyes is an eyebrow piercing, and below his thin lips, snake bites. He wears a loose black t-shirt tucked into black skinny jeans. The shirt reveals his toned arms, covered in tattoos, and his neck, also adorned with ink that stretches almost all the way up to his sharp jawline. 

“Hello? Which one of you is getting a piercing?” He asks again, since none of you had responded to him the first time, instead simply staring at him. His voice is low and dusky, suggesting a worldly sort of masculinity.

“Oh, I am,” you reply, finally. 

“Cool,” he says, crossing to sit at the reception desk. “I’m Levi. What’s your name?” 

“(Y/n), my name is (y/n),” you say hurriedly. You’re more than a little bit flustered, and almost feel as though you might lose your balance. Seeming to sense this, Armin gently places his hand on the back of your left arm. You glance at each other, and you snap out of your awkwardness. 

Levi looks at the computer as Mikasa had, searching for your appointment. “Okay, it says here you’re getting a cartilage piercing on your right ear. Is that correct?” 

“Yes,” you confirm, steady now. 

“Alright then,” he says, standing up and reaching beneath the desk to unearth a sheet of paper and a pen. “Please look over this consent form and then sign.” 

You take the paper from the desk and begin to read, Armin and Jean each looking over one of your shoulders. “This is daunting,” you say. 

“Yeah, it is,” Jean says, sounding surprised. 

“Haven’t you already read this?” you ask him.

“No, I didn’t read it, I just signed it, because I’m not a lunatic.” 

“You’re the lunatic,” you bite back, jabbing him in the ribs with your elbow. 

“It looks like it mostly says that you can’t hold the Tattooery responsible if you get an infection,” Armin notes. “Which, if you clean it properly, you probably won’t.” 

“Okay, I’ll sign it, then,” you say, leaning on the reception desk to scribble your signature. “What a good lawyer you are, Armin.” 

Levi takes the form from you, briefly glances at it, and then places it down on top of a manilla folder on the other side of the desk. “Okay, then, it’s time to pick out jewelry.” He reaches under the desk again and pulls out a little display of different stud earrings. “These range from most expensive on the right to least expensive on the left,” he says, pointing to the respective sides with his index finger. 

“Hm. Well, how expensive is the piercing itself?” 

Levi takes a deep breath, and then launches into what is clearly a very frequently given spiel. “The piercing on its own costs $55. This may seem expensive at first, but remember that for each piercing I use a new set of needles, to virtually eliminate any risk of contamination. You are paying for materials primarily and labor secondarily. Our jewelry may seem at first to be expensive as well, but note that all of our jewelry is made of stainless steel, which is more conducive to healing. I will not install any jewelry not purchased on the same day from our store.” 

Daunted, you simply say, “Okay, I’m going to take the least expensive one.” This ends up being a small, shiny silver ball. You notice that this guy still has not smiled at you once. _The customer service in this place is really stellar,_ you think to yourself sarcastically, remembering Mikasa’s coldness towards the three of you. 

“Alright, your total comes to $67, not including tax.” Levi offers a card reader, and you pay for the piercing, leaving a ten percent tip, just for fun. “Okay, then. You ready?” Levi asks, standing and clasping his hands together. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” 

“Alright then, come with me.” 

You start to follow Levi through the shop with Armin and Jean in tow. You pass Mikasa as she walks back to the reception desk. Levi notices your friends following you and stops to say, “Oh, guests aren’t allowed in. It’s a small room.” 

The boys reluctantly turn to walk back to reception. Armin stops, seeing Mikasa back at the reception, and turns back to you, rattled. He does _not_ want you to leave him over there with Eren’s terrifying ex-girlfriend who _definitely_ recognizes him. 

“Relax,” you advise him seriously, and turn back around to catch up with Levi, who has made it to the door of the side room without you. He crosses through the doorway and you follow him inside. He shuts the door behind you. The room really is small, maybe three meters long by two meters wide. There’s just enough room for a reclining chair like the ones in the main room of the Tattooery, a counter of needles, jewelry, and antiseptics, a mirror, and space around the chair for one person to move about. 

“Go ahead and get comfortable,” Levi says as he starts prepping at the counter. You obey, sitting up in the chair with your hands in your lap, your back not touching the back of the chair. You're determined to be perfectly well behaved and composed, even though you're pretty nervous. He turns around with a bottle and a cotton ball, and says to you, “Just lie down.” 

You do, feeling a bit silly for acting so proper. “I’m going to clean your ear with an iodine solution now. After we’re done, I’ll clean it off, but if it leaves a stain, it’ll come off in the shower, so don’t worry.” This, too, sounds rehearsed. “Turn your head,” he says. 

You turn your head away from him, exposing to him your right ear. You feel the cold, iodine-soaked cotton ball gently brush at your ear. You feel a shiver begin in your spine, and stifle it. He walks away from you again, and says, “Alright, now I’m going to make a mark on your ear where I plan to insert the needle. You’ll look at the mark in a mirror and tell me if you like how it’s placed. If you don’t like it, be sure to let me know so that we can change where the piercing goes before it’s too late.” 

“Alright,” you agree, with a slight nervous laugh. You still haven’t turned your head back to look at him. You hear the click of a pen uncapping, and then hear Levi approaching you from your right side. He places one hand on the side of your head, gently holding you still. He leans in close to you with the pen in his other hand, so close that you can feel his gentle exhales on your neck. You stifle another shiver. You feel a slight poke at the upper ridge of your ear. 

“Okay, go ahead and take a look,” Levi says, straightening up and giving you a handheld mirror. You hold it up and crane your neck, but can’t quite see where the piercing is. However, Levi is already a step ahead of you, rotating what you now realize is a swiveling chair so that you face perpendicular to the large mirror on the wall. Then, with his right hand, he gently takes your wrist and angles your arm so that you can look in the handheld mirror and see the reflection of your ear in the large mirror. “Does that look good?” 

You smile. “Yeah, that’s perfect.” 

“You sure? Now’s the time to say something.” 

“No, I’m sure,” you confirm, and he nods, spinning you into your original position. 

“Alright then. Now, I want you to start taking big, deep breaths, in through your nose, and out through your mouth.” 

You obey, grateful for a task to take you off of the quickening pace of your heartbeat, due to both your imminent stabbing and the man who's going to do the stabbing. 

After a minute, Levi leaves the counter again and comes to your right side once more. “Okay, turn your head again,” he commands, and you do, but clearly not enough, because he uses the pinky of his right hand, now gloved, on your chin to turn your head further to the side until your cheek touches the cool leather of the seat. “Keep breathing,” he reminds you, as you feel a cool piece of metal make contact with the sensitive skin of your ear. “Hold still, okay? Big, deep breath in… and out…” As you breathe out, you feel a strong pinching sensation on your ear, contrasting with Levi’s hand gently holding still the side of your face. “Alright, the needle’s through.” 

“Really?” you exclaim, surprised that it wasn’t more painful. 

“Mhm. But don’t move yet, I still have to put the jewelry through. Keep breathing…” he reminds again, and you feel his hand a bit more firmly on the side of your head. Another, slightly sharper pinching sensation makes you gasp deeply, and before you know it, Levi’s hands have left you. “Okay, jewelry’s in.” 

“Really? Wow…” you start to sit up. 

“No, no, no, lie back down, I still have to clean you up, brat.” 

You wordlessly return to your original position. _Did he just call me a brat?_ Another cold, wet piece of cotton makes contact with your ear, and after a few moments of gentle dabbing and rubbing, Levi announces, “Okay, _now_ you can sit up and take a look.” 

You sit up, and he hands you the small mirror again, spinning you around once more and adjusting your arm again to give you the proper angle with which to view the new piercing. “Looks good?” he asks. 

“Yeah, looks great,” you say. “Thank you so much. It’s perfect.” 

Levi immediately blows into his next piercing-related monologue. “You need to clean it with a saline solution. You can easily make your own, or you can buy some from us here. You hold the spray on each side of the piercing for three seconds each. You do this twice a day. Don’t. Touch it. At all. And don’t sleep on the side of the piercing. This can complicate the healing process.” He notices you still admiring your own reflection. “Hey. Brat. Are you listening to me?” 

You snap your head to face him, flustered. _He called me a brat again._ “Um… clean twice a day. Saline solution. And…” 

“Don’t touch it, or sleep on that side,” he finishes for you. “Are you going to be buying saline solution from us?” 

“No, I think my roommate has some. She came here for a belly button piercing a while ago. If not, I can just make my own, I guess, like you said.” 

He nods. “If you start to have any discomfort or notice any signs of infection at the piercing site, feel free to schedule a checkup appointment with me-- free of charge.” 

“Awesome.” 

“Feeling good?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Alright then.” Levi makes his way to the door and opens it, letting you walk through first. You stop outside of the doorway to let him pass you and lead you back to the entrance. 

“Thank you again,” you say. “That was totally painless.” 

“Of course. You did great,” he responds, an almost undetectable smile gracing his lips-- the first one he’s given you since you entered the store. 

Levi returns you to your friends. As you approach them, sitting in two folding chairs next to the reception desk, you show them your right ear. “It looks great!” Armin says, standing up. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” 

You follow your boys out of the storefront of the Tattooery, then check the time on your cell phone and sigh. “I’m having a serious adrenaline rush right now… You guys wanna grab a drink?” 

“It’s not even 4 o’clock,” Armin says. 

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Jean teases, and starts walking the group toward the nearest bar, which is just a couple blocks down. “I guess things weren’t meant to be with me and Hot Receptionist Girl,” he sighs. 

You laugh. “You are unbe-fucking-lievable. That piercer guy, though. Levi? Wasn’t he a bit…” 

“Hot?” Jean offers. 

“Yes,” you agree fervently. “Extremely cute.” 

Armin nods. “Yeah. I’m straight, but even I wanted some fries with that shake.” 

You and Jean laugh at Armin’s out-of-character comment. Jean starts to tease Armin as you drift off in thought, glancing back at the Tattooery. You feel good. Like, really good. Like you could spit fire. _And that guy…_ you think. _Well… he’s someone to keep in the back of my head._


	3. Strong, Independent Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another sunday, another chapter. this one was hella fun to write!! we're starting to set the arc of the story into motion now, and getting to know levi a little bit more. this chap also sets up the next one to be lots of fun-- chap 4 will be published next sunday, ofc. enjoy!

“Sashaaaa, dinner’s ready!” you call across the apartment. You’ve made little chicken quesadillas. You like to make them with small tortillas and fold them in half so that they’re semi-circular. That way, they’re easier to flip and you can eat them with your hands. 

“Be right there!” you hear from Sasha’s bedroom. In the meantime, you get plates and utensils out of the cabinet and silverware drawer. You’re happy to have a night in. You’ve had a lot of homework since classes started a month ago, but today you have some extra free time, and you’ve decided to use it to make a nice dinner for yourself and your roommate, and treat yourself to a spa night. When you told Sasha about your plans, she decided to join you, and you’re very much looking forward to a night of facials, gossip, and wine. 

“Mm, smells good,” Sasha coos, approaching from behind you. 

“Thanks. I also bought some salsa and guac to dip them in.” 

“Ah! You think of everything!” 

You eagerly sit down to dinner with your roommate at your little dining room table, big enough for about six people. You waste no time diving into the wonderful world of gossip. “So, how are things going with you and Connie?” Sasha had met Connie through her internship right at the beginning of the semester. He's the only other lab assistant in the lab she's working for. 

Sasha smiles. “It’s going well; I really like him. He’s just really goofy and fun to be around and, well, we’re very…” Sasha bites her lip flirtatiously. “...compatible.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware, Sasha. Our walls are pretty thin, you know.”

“Well, he’s definitely the best sex I’ve ever had. I mean, when I’m with him, it’s like my entire body is on fire, but in a really sexy way, not in a hellish way. Like, all my senses are heightened. And he’s not vanilla, either.” She grins. “A few nights ago, at his place, we tried this thing he found on a website, where he uses my-” 

“La-la-la-la-la… Sasha, I really don’t need to hear about this,” you interrupt her before things get too graphic. 

She scoffs. “Oh, you’re just jealous because you’re not getting anywhere with Eren.” 

“That has _nothing_ to do with it.” 

“So you admit that you’re not getting anywhere with him?”

You sigh. Eren has been back for a month and somehow, you still haven’t seen him. Whenever you and your friends get together, he’s always busy and can’t go, or if _he_ can, _you’re_ busy and can’t go. Besides that, when you text each other, things feel strained because you haven’t seen each other in so long. “If I could just see him again, I’m sure something would happen,” you tell Sasha. “He’s in that sweet spot where he’s been broken up with his ex long enough to be emotionally available, but he’s not _so_ available that he’s looking just anywhere for anybody. If I want to try to get something to happen with us, this is my opening. I know it.” 

“You’re being too passive,” Sasha returns. “You keep hoping that you’ll magically run into him through me or Armin or Jean. Basically, you’re cutting yourself off at the knees. And trust me, it’s really hard to fuck people when you don’t have full control of your legs.” 

“Okay, this metaphor is way too busy, and also way too graphic. You know I’m not interested in having sex with him, at least not yet.” You’ve never had sex before, and you’re not going to have it for the first time because of some wild impulse. You want to build a foundation first, and Sasha knows that. 

“Right, right. Sorry, (y/n),” Sasha apologizes. “Forget that. Just listen. If you want something to happen with Eren, you need to take matters into your own hands. Just ask him out. I’m a thousand percent sure he’ll say yes.” 

“You think so?” 

“I know so. It’s like you said: this is the perfect time. And he definitely likes you; I can tell.” 

“Really?”

Sasha nods. 

“Hm… Okay. Yeah, I’ll do it.” 

Sasha smiles at you. “Good! Okay, text him right now, before you lose your nerve.” 

“Okay, okay.” You take your phone out of your back pocket and open your messages. “Wait a minute, what am I asking him to do? I can’t just ask him if he wants to go out with me. I have to suggest an activity.” 

“Hm…” Sasha chews a quesadilla thoughtfully. “Hey, haven’t you been wanting to get another ear piercing?” 

You have been. Since you got the first one, you’ve been really liking the look of it, and getting it done was so fun and cathartic. It’s been a month since the first one, and since it's healing nicely, you think it might be nice to get another. “Yeah, I have.” 

“Well, why don’t you take him with you to do that? Then, you guys can go to dinner and drinks if you want. You can even make the rest of the night after the piercing seem like a spontaneous idea if you’d like.” 

“That’s a good idea. But wait, I haven’t even decided what I want the next piercing to be.”

“You should get the one that fixes migraines. You know, the one that’s right at the middle of your ear.” 

“But Sasha, I don’t get migraines.” 

“And you never will, (y/n). Not if you get that piercing.” Sasha taps her head with her index finger to emphasize her brilliance, and you chuckle. 

“Okay, yeah. I like the look of that one anyway. Okay, I’ll do that.” You type out a text to Eren that reads: _hey, dude. i’m thinking about getting another ear piercing and i was wondering if you wanted to come with, so we can catch up, just the two of us_. You read the text back to Sasha. “Does that sound okay?” 

“Yes, very good. Casual yet friendly and comfortable. Send it.” 

With her approval, you confidently press the send button. “Alright, it’s done.”

“Good! Now, don’t stare at it. A watched pot doesn’t boil.” 

You click your phone off and place it face-down next to you on the table. “Gosh, why am I so nervous? I’ve asked him to hang out a million times before.” 

“It’s because this time you know you have a different intent behind it. You have different expectations.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” Your phone pings, and you hastily pick it up. “Oh my god, he replied.” 

“Woah, that was pretty fast,” Sasha laughs. “Somebody’s eager.”

“He says, _That would be great. When do you want to go?_ I’m gonna say, _how about we meet at the Tattooery at 7 on Thursday_?”

“That’s soon,” Sasha comments. 

“Yeah, well _I’m_ eager, too.” Your phone pings again. “He says, _Sounds perfect, I’ll see you then!_ Wow, that was really easy.”

“What did I tell you? You gotta take matters into your own hands.” 

~~~

Thursday rolls around and you get ready in your bedroom for your date-ish with Eren. You decide to wear a tennis skirt that accentuates your legs nicely, and a tank top that accentuates your figure nicely. It’s an uncharacteristically hot day considering that it’s the end of September, so you figure there’s nothing wrong with dressing like it’s the middle of summer. _Besides,_ you think to yourself, _if it gets chilly later in the night, Eren will probably have a hoodie I can borrow._ You blush at the thought. You love little things like that. 

You realize it’s time to go, and quickly apply an extra spritz of perfume and pop a breath mint in your mouth, just in case. You leave your bedroom and go out into the living room of your apartment to claim a good-luck wish from Sasha. 

“How do I look?” you ask her. 

She smiles at you. “Like you’re ready to have some fun.” 

“What? What does that mean?” 

“I’m just messing with you. You look adorable. Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off there?” 

“No, I’m okay to walk. Besides, it’ll calm me down. And I’m sorry again that I can’t stay tonight to meet Connie.” 

“It’s fine, girl,” she waves her hand at you. “It was a last minute thing, and you’ll have plenty of other opportunities anyway. But listen, Armin and Jean will be here with us all evening, so if you need anything at all, just know that we’re all here thinking about you, and probably talking about you as well.” 

“Is it really that exciting? I mean, for you guys?” 

“(Y/n), this has been a long time coming. You guys are our best friends. If something starts happening with you, it’s going to be major. None of our lives will ever be the same. No pressure.” 

“Jesus Christ, Sasha. Fuck… Okay, I’m leaving.” You pick up your handbag off of the kitchen table as you pass through it on your way to the door. 

“Good luck, (y/n)! Be prepared to share details when you get back! Text me if you need me to get out of the apartment and give you guys some privacy! I don’t mind, but I need at least ten minutes’ notice! Always use protection!” 

“I hate you!”

“I love you too!” 

You shut your apartment door, sealing all of the chaotic energy within. _This is fine. I can do this._ You make your way out of the building and begin your walk. 

_No pressure, she says. Holy hell. As if I wasn’t nervous enough already. She’s right, this is a long time coming. I really only want to think about what this means for me and him, not all of the people that are going to get caught up in it just because they know us. But I guess they’re a part of this, too… Kind of. Shit. I just need to breathe. I look hella cute. It took me an hour to get ready. This is me at 100%. It doesn’t get any better than this. I’ve prepared in every way I reasonably can. God, I’m so hopeful… I’ve liked this guy for so long. We’re such good friends… You know what, I think this is going to go well. How could it not? I’m hot, he’s hot, we get along great, and we’re both single. Yeah. This is going to be good. Damn, I can’t wait to see him again._

Before you know it, the twenty minute walk is over, and you’ve landed outside the Tattooery. Eren hasn’t arrived yet. You check your phone to see what time it is: 7:02. _He’s not that late. This is fine. Besides, I have a chance to look nonchalant before he gets here._

You wait, and notice that the sun is low in the sky, making the street seem dark and unfamiliar. You realize how exposed you are, a young woman standing alone at a poorly lit street corner, all tarted up for a date. You check your phone again. 7:10. You sigh, and put your phone back in your pocket. _He’ll be here soon. Just stay calm_ . Just then, your phone pings. It’s a text from Eren that reads: _Hey kiddo, I have to cancel. Sorry this is sort of last minute, but something came up that I couldn’t get out of. Maybe we could reschedule?_

For a moment, no thoughts cross your mind, but by inches, you feel the fire of anger sparking within you. _He cancels on me? Ten minutes_ after _he was supposed to meet me? I’m already here. I made an appointment; I can’t reschedule. Who does this? I thought… I thought that he would be excited to see me after so long. Why is he cancelling? What couldn’t he get out of? Is he going on another date? Why is this happening to me?_ You run out of coherent thoughts and succumb to a wave of rage. Without thinking, you kick your right food hard into the outside brick wall of the Tattooery. You don’t feel any better, but the energy output lets you think again. _Okay, try to think. What do I need to do now? I can’t cancel the appointment. Technically, it started ten minutes ago. If I don’t show up, they won’t take appointments from me anymore. Well, I could always go somewhere else… If I leave now, I could have dinner with Sasha and Armin and Jean, and finally meet Sasha’s boyfriend. Oh, but they’ll all be feeling bad for me. I don’t know if I can take it…_ you snap out of it. _You know what? No. I came here to do something for myself. I’m here because I want another ear piercing. This doesn’t have to have anything to do with Eren. I’m keeping my appointment. I’m getting this done._

Strengthened by your newfound resolve, you march through the front door of the Tattooery, where Levi is leaning against the reception desk, already looking at you. He looks exactly as he did when you saw him last month. You freeze after passing through the doorway. 

“(Y/n)?” he asks flatly. 

“Yeah, that’s me.” 

He crosses behind the reception desk to sit in the chair. You look around the storefront. “There’s no one else here,” you observe. 

“We usually close at six on weeknights, but since you made an appointment for seven, I got to hang around here for an hour.”

“And then I was late, too. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“You weren’t late.” 

“What?” 

“You weren’t late. You were here on time, and then you stood out there for an extra ten minutes and kicked the outside of my wall.” 

You feel your cheeks and ears heat up. “You saw me?” He makes no reply, simply glancing in your direction and then back to the computer monitor. You sigh. “I was supposed to meet someone here. We were going to do this and then maybe get dinner, or drinks, and then while I was standing out there, he texted me that he had to cancel. You know, after I’d already arrived. I was just upset and-” you are cut off by a lump rising in your throat. You hadn’t realized you were close to crying, but talking about it has just drawn it out of you. You swallow and clear your throat. “Whatever. You don’t care. The point is, I’m here, and I’m doing this.” 

He looks at you from across the room, his piercing gray eyes holding contact with yours as he says, “Yes, it’s nice to do something for ourselves when others let us down, isn’t it?” 

You don't know what to make of Levi's sudden insightful tone, and you sure as hell don't know what to say in response. “Um… yeah. That’s what I thought.” 

“Hm.” Levi stands and hands you the consent form and pen. “We need you to sign this each time, it’s policy. You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” 

“Yeah, last month,” you say, accepting the form and leaning on the desk to sign it. 

“Then you already know the deal. What’re we having done today?” 

“Oh, I was going to get one here,” you say, pinching your ear in the proper location. “The one you get for migraines.” 

“You get migraines?”

“No.” You cringe internally at how stupid you sound, and purse your lips. 

He just stares at you and nods for a moment. “Uh-huh. Well-” he clasps his hands, “-let’s choose some jewelry.” 

“Oh, I’ll just take the least expensive one. I like it for the one I have now.”

Levi rings up your total and you pay, leaving a 10% tip again, just for fun. He leads you into the same small side room as last time, and you lie down properly and turn your head, learning from past mistakes. This time, Levi doesn’t explain everything as he’s doing it, so you simply listen to him prepping and think. _I’m going to have to reply to that text eventually. What the hell should I say? Am I angry? Am I understanding? Am I passive-aggressive? Or…_ you have a devious thought. _What if I just didn’t reply at all?_

Levi approaches with a cotton ball and iodine. “Iodine first,” he announces, and then gently cleans your ear. “The other one looks like it’s healing nicely.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to be good about cleaning it and not touching it.” 

“Good.” He goes back to the counter and returns with a pen. “Alright, I’m going to mark the piercing site now.” A slight poke, and he hands you a small mirror, spinning your chair and angling your arm so that you can see it. “Does that look good?” 

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” you say softly. He returns you to your original position and goes back to the counter to get the needle ready. You’re feeling very odd, being in here alone with him. Even though you two were alone last time, it’s weirdly intimate now, knowing that there’s nobody else on the other side of the door. Ordinarily, you might feel uncomfortable being alone with a man that’s older than you in a small room that leaves you physically vulnerable, but for some reason, you feel incredibly safe and comforted, and before you know it, you’re saying, “Levi, can I ask you a question?” 

“What’s up?” 

“Well, it’s this guy that stood me up. I need to answer his text. Now, I could either give him a considerate, understanding reply, or a passive-aggressive reply, or an angry reply, or no reply at all. What do you think I should do?” 

He pauses. “Well, what is he to you?” 

“He’s a friend. Well…” you start to elaborate, but you realize that he is, in fact, just a friend. No matter what anybody says, or what you feel, nothing has happened between you two. “No. He’s a friend. Just a friend,” you finish. 

“A good friend?” 

“Yeah, I mean…” You’re trying to find it within you to stay angry, but these questions are calming you down. “Yeah. He’s one of my closest friends.” 

Levi sighs. “Well, then, I hate to say this, brat, but you should probably go with the considerate reply. If he’s really a good friend, you don’t want to start a fight with him. Understanding is your best option.” 

You nod slowly and say nothing. You know he’s right, but it’s not what you want to hear. You want to be told that it’s okay to be angry towards Eren, that you should be vindictive and mean, and feel justified in doing so. _This guy is too damn wise,_ you think. _Plus he called me a brat… again._

“But…” Levi continues out of the silence, “If, for instance, you felt like you were in a place where you can’t send a genuinely compassionate response that doesn’t sound fake, then no response is probably the best option.” You smile. That’s what you wanted to hear. “Start taking deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth,” he instructs you. 

You obey, awash in the glow of Levi’s sage wisdom. He approaches you on your right side and uses the back of his gloved hand to turn your head gently away from him. He positions one hand on the side of your neck, and the other at your ear, holding a needle close to the skin. He’s leaned his face in so close to yours that you can feel his breath tickling the skin on your neck, just like last time. Unlike last time, however, you don’t feel a shiver, and instead feel a strange closeness to him. “Big deep breath in… and out,” he says. As you exhale, he pushes the needle through your ear. This time around, the pinch is much stronger, and you hear a loud pop as it goes through. You open your jaw in a silent gasp, feeling as though your excess anger at Eren is leaving you through the new puncture wound. “Alright, needle’s through, now for the jewelry.” You can already feel your ear starting to swell and throb as he pushes the stainless steel through the cartilage of your ear. He then reaches for a clean cotton ball and saline solution, and cleans the iodine off of your ear. “Okay, you’re done,” he says, giving you the hand mirror again. He positions you to look at your ear in the large mirror, and your lips turn up into a small smile at your reflection. “It feels good, doesn’t it? Taking control of your life.” 

“Yeah…” you say quietly. You see him watching your reflection in the mirror and catch his gaze, sustaining eye contact for a moment before he looks away. 

“Well, you’re all done. You know the way out.” he says, matter-of-factly. 

You stand up out of the chair and pick up your handbag off of the floor. You open the door of the room, but before you walk through, you stop and turn around. “Levi?”

He turns to look at you. “Hm?”

“Thank you.”

He nods, a slight smile gracing his lips. “Anytime.” 

You nod back at him, and turn around to cross through the door. Leaving the store, you find yourself in the same emotional situation you were in before you went in. You check your phone and it’s only 7:39. You feel like you should go back to your apartment, but just like the last time you got a piercing, you’re on a bit of an adrenaline high; more so than last time, actually, since this time you are also upset with Eren. Plus, you’re kind of loving this whole Being Independent thing you have going on right now. You decide to go have a drink at the bar down the street, all by yourself. 


	4. Clavado en un Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy sunday, friends! hella fun chapter here, full of nice people and drunkenness. chap title is a reference to a song i like called clavado en un bar. feel free to take a listen as you read. happy reading!

The bar down the road is called the Spot. It’s a fairly new place; you’re pretty sure it just opened last year. Truthfully, you don’t go out drinking very often. The first time you’ve gone to this bar was just last month when you went with Armin and Jean. Usually, if you want to drink, you prefer to do it in the comfort and safety of either a friend’s home or your own. When you walk in the bar, you’re surprised to find that it’s not much more crowded than when you came on a Tuesday at 4 pm. Even though it’s a Thursday evening, you figure it must also be a slow night. You’re not sure, though. After all, you’re not one to go to bars, are you? 

Even though you’ve been feeling good, you start to feel a bit nervous now that you’ve walked through the door. Nobody turns to look at you, though; they’re all either deeply immersed in conversation with the people they’re with, or they’re deeply immersed in their drink and apparent loneliness. The bar isn’t very fashionable or meticulously decorated, but it does look clean and new. Feeling like a camouflaged creature in the wild, you walk to the bar and tentatively sit down upon one of the open stools. The only other person sitting at the actual bar is an old guy with a beard sitting at the far end who looks like he hasn’t moved from the spot since 1997. You take a moment to wonder what his story is, and what led him to this point. 

“Hey, what can I get for you?” Your thoughts dissolve at the sudden interruption, and you turn your head to the source. The bartender is a sweet-faced young man with dark hair, bright hazel eyes, and freckles along his nose and rosy cheeks. You’re deeply comforted, just looking at him. “Um… I’ll take a vodka tonic. A double, please.” 

“Sure,” the bartender chirps. 

You thank him when he hands your drink to you and you open your phone to see if Eren has sent you any additional texts. He hasn’t, and you sigh, clicking it off and putting it back in your handbag. You’d thought that maybe when you didn’t reply, he’d text you again to make sure you were alright. You take a sip of your drink. _Stupid,_ you reprimand yourself. _If he didn’t care enough to cancel ahead of time, why would he care enough to ask me if I’m okay? Ugh, stupid. What if something bad happened and that’s why he couldn’t make it? Don’t be so self centered, you insensitive bitch!_

You must look pretty pitiful, because the bartender comes back to your end of the bar and says, “Hey. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you respond reluctantly. “Well, I mean, I’m not _okay_ -okay, but you know. I’m okay.” 

“Is it a guy?” 

“Yes. Ugh!” 

He leans on the bar to settle in. “Alright, what’d he do?” 

“He flaked! He totally flaked. We were supposed to meet, and then he flaked.” 

“Well, that’s just how guys are sometimes.” 

“That’s the thing, he’s not just some guy. He’s, like… a special guy.” 

“Special how?” 

You tell him everything. About your history with Eren, about his girlfriend, about Sasha pressuring you to ask him out, and about all of the ways this situation sucks. You talk about the things you like about Eren, you talk about your friends, you talk about your life. You monologue for minutes on end, and as you talk, your drink disappears down your throat, the bartender refills it, and it disappears again. He listens to you intently, smiling and frowning at all the right points. 

As you finish, you say, “And now, I thought I would come here, because I’m freaking independent and shit, and I don’t need anybody. And that sounds like a cry for help, but I promise you it’s not.” 

“Well, you are in a bar, and you are drinking pretty quickly.” 

“Yeah, speaking of, can I get another refill, here? Something different, though.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I don’t know, I haven’t had many types of drinks. Surprise me?” 

He gives you something called a dark and stormy, which he says is made with whiskey. It’s pretty tasty, but at this point, the taste is pretty irrelevant. You’re drinking to get drunk. 

The bartender leans against the counter behind him. “Just try to drink that one slower, okay? Don’t overdo it.” He looks genuinely concerned. 

“Okay, I’ll try, um…” 

“Marco,” he finishes for you. 

“Marco. I’m (y/n).” 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“You, too.” You take a long swig of your drink. You’re starting to get pretty tipsy. “Oh, Marco. What am I gonna do about Eren?” 

“I don’t know that there’s anything you _can_ do, you know? I think that you gave it your best shot, and that you should be comforted by that. That you put yourself out there.”

“But I reallllllllyyyyy like him. And Sasha says he likes me too.” 

“Well, maybe he does. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to get into something with someone who doesn’t respect you.”

You’re a little offended. “He doesn’t respect me?” 

Marco sighs. “I don’t know you, and I don’t know Eren, but he sure did bail on you at the last minute. And he also flirted with you for two years and never asked you out. That doesn’t sound like a respectful person to me.” 

“Ugh.” You down the rest of your drink. You know he’s right, and you hate it. “This sucks. I think it’s time for shots. Tequila, please.” 

Marco raises his eyebrows at you, but fetches a shot glass of tequila and a lime wedge. You accept and immediately take the shot, grimacing afterwards. “Blegh! Oh, that is so gross.” You shove the lime wedge in your mouth and bite down, deeply appreciative of what is usually an unwelcome sourness. 

“Have you not had tequila before?”

“I have, but not straight like this.” Already, you start to feel the shot hit you. “Woahhhhh, haha. Warm and fuzzy in the tummy.” Marco chuckles at you. You’re starting to feel pretty bold. “So, Marco, do you come here often?”

He smiles at you. “To my job? Yes, I come here often. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, though. I-” 

“Gay,” you finish for him. “Clocked you the moment I saw you. You know, Marco, I have a friend I think you would really vibe with. I think you would really, really vibe. Now, is he my only gay friend? Yes, but also no, because he’s technically bisexual. But is he perfect for you? Also yes.” 

“Babe, you don’t know the first thing about me.” 

“Wrong! You’re wrong. Well, I know you’re empathetic, right? Because, you came over here and asked if I was okay.” You’re starting to be quite drunk. “And also, a good listener, because of how you are listening to me right now. And Marco, I say this with the deepest of compliments, you are just as cute as a button, like the kind that comes extra with the shirt in a little bag. Cute like that. He would _love_ you.” 

Marco laughs warmly. “That’s really nice of you, (y/n). Maybe I _should_ let you fix me up… I haven’t had much luck lately.”

“Not much luck? A you-type, not much luck? You’re, like, your face is warm cookies… I don’t know what I mean by that. But forreal, Marco, one thing wrong with you: not giving me more shots. More shots, Marco, c’mon.”

He leans down close to you and looks right in your eyes. “I will give you exactly one more shot, and then you will drink a glass of water, which you will finish before I give you anything else. Deal?” 

“Deal. Deal. Deal, or no deal? Oh, that show is so fun…” 

When the shot appears in front of you, you grab onto it and immediately throw it back. “Hah! Wow, doesn’t taste as bad now.” 

“And now, the rest of the deal.” He gives you a glass of water, and you stick out your tongue at him, reluctantly taking a sip. Just then, you hear the door of the bar open with a jingle. Footfalls cross the room behind you and then land a couple seats down from you. “Triple whiskey.” You recognize the voice and look up. “Whaaaaaat?! This guy!” 

Levi turns to you, almost not sure that it’s him you’re talking to. “Oh. It’s you.” 

“You don’t remember my name. Marco, Levi doesn’t remember my name. My name is (y/n), Levi. That’s my name.” 

Marco, who is pouring Levi’s drink, shoots you an amused glance. Levi nods politely at you. “(Y/n). Hello,” and then he turns away from you, sipping his drink, very clearly not wanting to talk. 

You don’t pick up on that, though. “Marco, Levi shoved a needle in my ear today.” 

Marco turns to Levi, his guard up. “What the hell is she talking about? (Y/n), he attacked you?” 

Levi is not afraid of you or this random guy, but clears things up anyway. “I pierced her ear. I work at the Tattooery.” 

“No, no, Marco, Levi’s not scary. I told him about stuff and he told me not to be mean to Eren because I wanna stay friends. He said be nice, but if you can’t be nice right now, then don’t say anything. No, Marco, he’s not dangerous, he’s good.” 

“Oh.” Marco drops the defensive act, but doesn’t quite seem to forgive Levi for what you mistakenly said. 

“Yeah, yeah! Levi’s like you, Marco. Levi is a nice boy.” 

“Well, alright, then,” Marco says as Levi shoots you a weird look. 

You see that glance, and since you’re drunk, you don’t let it slide. “Uh-oh, Marco, Levi didn’t like what I said. What was bad, Levi? You don’t want anyone to know you’re nice?” 

“Don’t put words in my mouth, brat.”

“Brat! Brat, brat, brat! He calls me a brat again, Marco! That’s, like, the millionth time? What’s up, dude? I’m a brat? Rude!” 

“Maybe you should slow down, (y/n),” Marco advises you. “I don’t think he meant anything by it.”

“Whatever! It’s weird! I don’t like it. Explain yourself, Levi. Why’m I the brat?” 

Levi narrows his eyes at you. “I just call people that. It has no deeper meaning. You’re just younger than me.” 

“Ah-HAH!” you shout, and then scooch yourself one barstool closer to Levi. “It’s I’m _younger_ than you. Oh, I’m younger than you, so I don’t know fucking _anything,_ right? Why, because I didn’t know to lay down for my first piercing? I asked you for advice about a boy?”

“I don’t want to entertain this, really,” Levi begins, “but it is kind of immature to fret about a stupid text. I mean, this guy obviously doesn’t really care about you. So, why worry about what you say in response?” 

You’re stunned. “That… That’s what Marco said, too.” 

“No, no,” Marco cuts in. “I said he’s not _respectful_ of you. I never said he doesn’t care about you.” 

“Same thing,” you wave Marco off. “Levi, you say why worry? People are important, Levi. I like people, and Eren’s a favorite. Favorite people’re important, yeah.”

“I know that,” Levi snaps at you, almost seeming to bare his teeth at you. 

You realize you hit a nerve, and feel yourself sober up a bit. “Sorry, Levi.” You go to take a sip of your water, and find it empty. “Hey, Marco! Done with the water! You said more drinks after I’m done with the water.” 

Marco sighs. “I will give you exactly _one_ more drink, and then you’re cut off.”

“Vodka cranberry, please!” you smile. After Marco serves you your last drink, you find yourself watching Levi sip his whiskey as he stares off into the near-distance. He glances at you sideways, and then looks ahead again. “It’s rude to stare.” 

“Sorry,” you say, but you don’t look away. Instead, you move yet another barstool closer to him so that you’re sitting right next to each other. “Levi… whatcha thinkin’ about?” 

“Why should I tell _you_?”

“...I have a penny.” 

“What?”

“I have a penny.” You reach into your purse and root around in the bottom. After a few moments, you pull out a single coin, place it on the bar, and slide it over to him. “Penny for your thoughts.” 

He looks at the penny and then at you. “A penny for my thoughts, huh?” 

“Yeah, Levi.” You scoff. “It’s a pretty common saying. You should lock it away for future use.” 

“No, I know the saying, I was just-” Levi sighs and abandons the argument, knowing it doesn’t matter in the slightest. “I was… thinking about work,” he lies. 

“Work. You work at the Tattooery.” 

“Yes, I do, genius.”

“You work with Eren’s ex-girlfriend.” 

“What?”

“Mikasa is Eren’s ex-girlfriend.” 

Levi raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Is she, really? Huh. Small world.”

“Yeah, small world. And freaking Jean hit on her.” 

Levi chuckles. “Yeah, she mentioned that.”

“Oh, she mentioned. Yeah, it was funny. So you chit chat with your people that you work with?” 

“Sometimes. Mikasa is my cousin, though.” 

“Oooohhhhhhh, cousin. Yeah, I see the resemblance.”

“Do you really?”

“Yeah, you guys are both total bitches.” You hear Marco laugh sharply behind you. 

“Oh, I’m a total bitch? I thought I was a nice boy,” Levi says sarcastically.

“Yeah, you’re a nice boy. People can be more than one thing.” You reach for your drink and take the final sip. You reach out your hand in Marco’s direction. “Hey, Marco- woah!” Holding your arm out throws you off balance, and you fall off the stool and hit the ground hard, luckily catching yourself with your hands. You start to laugh hysterically. “Uh-oh, I took a tumble! Oh, boy…” 

“Okay, you’re hammered.” Levi puts his drink down and stands up. “Let’s get you home.” 

“Oooooo, Levi’s gonna take me home,” you coo loudly as Levi pulls you to your feet. You lean against him as you stand. 

“Where do you live?” he asks. 

“No, that’s a secret! I’m not telling you!” you shout, and then giggle at your own hilarious joke. 

“I’m sure I can figure this out,” Levi says to himself. Unbeknownst to you, he gives Marco enough cash for your drinks as well as his own and then picks up your handbag, which you were ready to forget. “Do you have a car here?” 

“No, I walked. I walked here to meet Eren. M’sorry.” 

“That’s okay. I have one.” Levi hauls you through the parking lot and, as smoothly and gently as possible, deposits you in the passenger seat. As he starts the car, he asks, “So, you said you have a roommate, right?” 

“Yes, Sasha is my roommate. Sasha is wonderful.” 

“Nice. Where’s Sasha now?” 

“Sasha’s at home with Connie, that’s her boyfriend, and my other friends might be there still too.” 

“Oh, where’s home for Sasha?”

“She’s in an apartment in the Complex. It’s funny because it’s an apartment complex called the Complex.” 

“That’s fun. What apartment number is she in?” 

“She’s in 3C, dummy. I said she’s my roommate so duh, she lives where I live.” You pause, and drop your jaw comically. “Oh, you tricked me!” 

“Well, I’m no dummy.” It’s a pretty short drive back to your building, and since you’re completely wasted, you’re there before you even know you’ve left the parking lot. Levi drags you up to the third floor of the building, third apartment down, and knocks on the door. 

After a few moments, Sasha answers the door, and before she sees you, starts to say, “Hey, you two, it’s pretty la- Woah, what the hell?” 

“Are you the roommate?” Levi asks. 

“Yes, and who the fuck might you be?” 

“Levi. I was at the bar.” 

“She was at a bar? ...Was there a guy there with her?” 

“I assume you’re referring to Eren, and no. He flaked.” 

“What?! Wait, how do you know who-” 

You escape Levi to throw your arms around Sasha. “Roommate! Here’s my special girl!” 

“(Y/n)! Hi, we’re gonna get you into bed.” 

“Ohhhh, bedtime!” As Sasha leads you from the doorway, you’re vaguely aware of some other people passing you as they approach the doorway. “Sasha, Sasha! There’s friends here! I have to talk to the friends! I can’t be rude!” 

“Well, of course not!” Sasha assures you. “Let’s just go put on a more comfy outfit, okay?” 

“Comfy. Good idea.” When you get to your bedroom, you sit down on your bed. Sasha hands you a sweatshirt from your closet and you put it on, unhooking your bra and pulling it out through your sleeve. “Okay, comfy now. Friends now.” 

“Are you thirsty?” 

Suddenly, your throat feels dry as fuck. “Yeah, yeah I’m thirsty.” 

“Okay, I’ll go get you a glass of water. You wait here and lay down until I get back. Just relax, okay?” 

“Aw, okay. So nice, Sasha.” As Sasha leaves the room, turning off the light and shutting the door, you lay your head down on your pillow and immediately fall asleep. 


	5. the Hangover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sunday-sunday-sunday! sorry this chapter is a little bit shorter than the others, but if it's any consolation it has some of my favorite jean dialogue in the story so far. lots of fun ensemble dialogue. thanks for reading! *smooches*

You awaken the next morning to a head full of cobwebs and the most unbelievable dehydration you’ve ever experienced. There’s sunlight drifting in through your bedroom window that feels like it’s stabbing you in the eyes. You know only one thing: you need water and Aspirin. You sit up very slowly, but when you stand, you feel an ickiness moving around in your belly and throat. You groan and your feet carry you clumsily out of your room and into the bathroom, where you immediately vomit into the sink. 

_Fuckin’ hangovers._ You rinse out the sink and then your mouth, and brush your teeth. You may not have the ability to produce any coherent thoughts, but you still have the capacity to be disgusted with your appearance in the mirror. Your makeup has smudged all over the place, and your hair looks like a poorly made rat’s nest. As you finish brushing your teeth, you at least take comfort in the fact that your mouth no longer tastes like cat shit. You take a washcloth from off of a hook and use it to haphazardly wash your face, managing to remove all of the major smudges, as well as the waxy feeling that has been entrenched in your skin. You brush your hair roughly, frustrated with the tangles, and eventually resign yourself to pulling it into a barely-functional messy bun. To top things off, you take two Aspirin with a big glass of water, and then trudge out of the bathroom. 

When you look out into the little dining area of your apartment, there’s Jean sitting in one of the chairs, his feet up on another, drinking a cup of coffee. He raises his eyebrows at you in a silent greeting, and you wave, drifting along to look into the living room. There, Sasha and Connie are knocked out on the floor, one laying half on top of the other. Armin is sound asleep in a reclining chair, his mouth open and snoring softly. On the couch… _That can’t be right…_ is Marco, the bartender. You furrow your brows and then look back at Jean again, who beckons you over, for he has a story to tell. You sit down in a dining chair next to him.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he quietly greets you. 

“Fuck you,” you return, leaning over to rest your head on folded arms. “What the hell’s the bartender doing here?” 

“Well,” Jean puts his coffee mug down, “Last night turned into quite an event. Connie and Armin both brought bottles of wine to be polite, and as you know, you and Sasha already had half a handle of vodka in the cabinet, which I believe you had leftover from your 21st birthday. Well, everyone got along great with Connie, so I decided to make a batch of my famous sangria.” 

“You’ve never made sangria before.” 

“But I’m famous for it now. It was the wine, the remaining vodka, and the rest of a jug of Minute Maid punch from your fridge.” 

“I don’t think that counts as sangria,” you mumble. “And fuck you for using the punch; I was going to drink that this morning.” 

“Well, anyway, we got up to lots of fun. Truth or Dare, Never Have I Ever, Paranoia, all the classics. Before we knew it, it was half past eleven, and we hadn’t had dinner yet. Everyone was too messed up to cook, let alone drive themselves home, so we ordered in from Wok This Way. I couldn’t believe they were still open, but I guess some places are starting to close later now to tap into the drunk and stoned market. You know, I’ve gotten their shrimp spring rolls many times before, but last night I found that-” 

“Jean, for God’s sake, I’m really only interested in why the bartender is here. I can barely wrap my head around the fact that anyone other than Sasha is in my house.” 

“I’m getting to that. Anyway, like I was saying, after we ate dinner we were just chillin’, boozin’ but we weren’t shitfaced anymore, and we started to wonder about you and Eren. I thought that probably if you weren’t home yet, that meant that you’d gone back to his place or something, but Armin was worried, so he got Sasha to call you. You didn’t pick up, but we figured it was just because you were busy, so we didn’t think much of it. Then, we watched the Emperor's New Groove. I hadn’t seen it in years, but it was still as funny as when I was a kid. Connie had never seen it, actually, so we got to tease him about it, which was really fun. Then we got into a debate about whether-” 

“Jean. Jean,” you stop him, getting more exasperated by the second. “I don’t need all of these details. I asked you one question. Why are you getting into all of these details? I’m not interested.” 

“Because this is a fun story, and I’m a teller of stories. And I’m the only one that’s awake, so if you want to know what happened, you have to listen to me talk. I’m not uncharitable, though, so I’ll skip ahead. At around 1:45 in the morning, there was a knock at the door. We all thought it was you and Eren, and Sasha went to answer the door. I realized the man’s voice at the door wasn’t Eren’s, so I got up, and so did Armin, to come see, right as you jumped on Sasha. She hauled you off to bed, but I stuck around to see what was the matter. I couldn’t _believe_ what I was seeing, but moreover, I couldn’t believe that Levi didn’t recognize me! I think I’m pretty memorable-” 

“Wait, Levi? Levi was here?” 

“Yeah, he brought you home. You don’t remember that?” 

You sigh, massaging your wrist with your opposite hand. “I remember I saw him at the bar last night, but not that. The last thing I remember is asking Marco for a vodka cranberry. _Speaking of whom-_ ”

“I said I’m getting to it! So anyway, I tried to ask Levi questions about what had happened, but he wouldn’t tell me much. He just said you showed up at the Tattooery alone complaining about some guy who’d flaked on you, and then when he went to the bar a couple hours later, there you were, and eventually you got so drunk he decided to bring you home. We thought that was nice of him, and we tried to ask him inside for a drink, but he said no and then just kinda left. So we went back to the living room, and by this time, Sasha had put you to bed, so she was back too. I ribbed Sasha a little for not recognizing Levi. She claims it’s because he got a haircut, but I think she was just drunk and stupid. Anyway, then we were talking about you and Eren, trying to figure out what had happened, why he cancelled, what exactly you were thinking going to a bar alone on a Thursday, and then-- stay with me here-- there was _another_ knock at the door. This time, _I_ get up to answer the door, and when I open it, there’s this guy. He’s, like, tall and with freckles, and these bright eyes, and he’s like, ‘Hey, I’m Marco, is (y/n) here?’ So then, I said-” 

“That’s not quite what happened,” you hear softly from the living room. Armin has awoken and is now sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Hold on,” he says, and slowly gets up and walks over to the kitchen table. He plops down next to you and says, “He’s leaving out the part where he just stared at him and forgot to say hello, so Marco had to talk first.” 

“Aw, that’s cute,” you say. 

“No, it wasn’t, it was embarrassing,” Jean protests. “But that is neither here nor there. Before I tell Marco you’re here, I ask him why he wants to know, and he says he was bartending at the Spot while you were there with Levi. Apparently he was sort of worried Levi might be about to do something evil to you, so since you and Levi were the last ones in the bar, Marco locked up, then went out and followed you to make sure you were okay. Well, this was a very nice thing to hear, so I told him that yes, you’re there, and you’re fast asleep in the next room, and that Levi just gave you to us and left. Then, Marco said he was going to leave, but we all really liked that he was nice and made sure you were safe, so we invited him inside. We didn’t pass out too long after that, but basically, long story short…” 

“We’ve bonded with him,” Armin finishes. “Especially Jean. You should’ve seen how he was making eyes at him.” 

“Oh, I can imagine,” you say, getting excited. “I said this to Marco just last night at the bar. I told him about you, Jean, and I told him I was sure you’d just _love_ him.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s safe,” Jean groans. 

“Relax, I didn’t tell him your name, so I’m sure he didn’t even realize it was you I was talking about.” You sigh. “I need coffee.” 

“Me, too,” Armin says. “I’ll get some for both of us.” 

“Thank you, sweetie.” You turn to Jean. “That’s really nice of Marco to check on me, and of Levi to get me home safe….” You sigh. “I couldn’t believe it when Eren flaked on me.” You tell Jean of last night’s events from your point of view (or at least what you can remember of them) as Armin listens from the kitchen. As you tell your story, the remaining three sleepers in the living room awaken and silently join you at the table, listening to your story. Armin gives each of them mugs and pours them coffee from the pot. He sits back down as you are finishing. “That’s the last thing I remember, but I guess at some point after that, Levi drove me home.” 

“You’re not forgetting much,” Marco says. “After you finished your vodka cranberry, you kind of fell over, and that’s when he left with you.”

“(Y/n), it sounds like you made a real connection with him,” Sasha opins. 

“Who?” you ask. “Levi?” 

“Yeah, it sounds like you guys had a good talk. I mean, you obviously got him to care enough about you for him to make sure you get home safe.” 

“I kind of agree,” Marco adds. “He seemed kind of annoyed in the beginning, but I think eventually you were just so honest and vulnerable he couldn’t help but be drawn in.” 

“Huh. Do you think-” you start to say, but Jean cuts you off with, “I’m sorry, but we blew past the whole ‘Eren cancelled on (y/n) out of nowhere ten minutes after they were supposed to meet, and didn’t even offer her an excuse’ thing. My theory is that he’s secretly a literal demon from hell. What do you guys think?” 

“He’s not a demon…” you argue weakly, still influenced by your feelings for him. 

“Maybe not, but it was definitely a dick move,” Sasha says. “Especially that he didn’t say why. Wait a minute, Armin, didn’t you text him when we found out he flaked? Did he ever respond?” 

“Um… yeah.” 

“Well, what did he say?” 

Armin winces. “I really don’t think I should say. It’s not my business.” 

“It’s all of our businesses,” Sasha argues. “What did he say?”

“Well…” Armin hesitates. “He just said that he had better things to do. I guess he heard about some party and he decided to go to that instead.” 

A collective gasp/groan emanates from the group. 

“Asshole,” Sasha says. “That’s fucking unforgivable.” 

“Yeah! He thinks he’s so goddamn cool and popular he always has to be looking for something better,” Jean adds. 

“Wait-wait-wait,” Connie interrupts, confused. “I mean, is it really that big of a deal? Like, yeah, that sucks, and it definitely wasn’t _nice_ , but it’s not like some huge betrayal, right?” 

“No, it’s a huge betrayal,” Armin explains. “We’ve all been friends for years, and Eren knew how (y/n) felt about him, and honestly… ” 

“We thought he felt the same way,” Sasha finishes. “And even if he doesn’t, she and him are still really good friends. It really sucks.” 

“Well, maybe he does feel the same way,” Marco says. “You know? Maybe he just got intimidated and nervous, and decided to bail because he thought he’d mess it up. I know that still wouldn’t make it okay, but even so.” 

“Nervous? That guy? I don’t think so,” Jean argues. “He’s so arrogant, I bet it’s never even crossed his mind that he couldn’t get a girl he wanted, or an internship, or anything else in the whole god-forsaken world.” 

“That’s not very nice,” Marco scolds gently. “Everyone has vulnerabilities. I’m not excusing what he did, but I think it’s good to always think of both sides of the situation.” 

Jean says nothing and glances away, blushing slightly. Out of the silence, you say, “Well, it was really nice of you to make sure Levi wasn’t trying anything with me, Marco. That’s very sweet of you.” He smiles at you and nods. You continue: “And, you know, it was really nice of Levi to bring me home. I mean, otherwise, I would’ve taken an Uber, and who knows what would have happened if I’d done that.” 

“Nothing good,” Sasha says. “At the very least, you’d be out, like fifteen bucks or so.” 

“I wish I had Levi’s number or something, so I could say thanks. I guess I could go to the Tattooery to say thanks, but I don’t think I would want to see him in person. That’s too embarrassing.” 

“Oh, I have his number.” Everyone turns to look at Connie, completely flabbergasted by the turn of events. 

“How the _hell_ do you have his number?” Sasha asks. 

“Well, after Armin and Jean went back to the living room once he dropped (y/n) off, I was still kind of standing there. He basically just asked me to let him know in the morning that she was alright, and then he put his number in my phone. I guess I should probably text him…” 

“No! Don’t!” Sasha protests. “Let (y/n) text him!” 

You shake your head, blushing slightly. “I don’t know…” It was way easier to say you wished you could text him, when you had no ability to do so.

“Oh, you should!” Sasha insists. “Please do it, for me. You like him, don’t you?”

“I guess so, yeah…” 

“You guess?” Marco scoffs. “You were completely obsessed with him last night. You wouldn’t stop trying to start up a conversation with him, and close to the end there, you scooched up right next to him, and you kept touching his shoulder while you were talking to him.” 

“I did?” you blush. 

“Honestly, this guy seems like a way better guy than Eren,” Jean says. “And if Eren’s acting like a dick, it might be good to try to focus on another guy you like. And this one actually has a respectable career.” 

“Politics isn’t respectable?” you quip. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s really respectable,” Jean says sarcastically. “Eren’s gonna spend his entire life getting better at lying, and at the same time trying to style his hair to make himself look more trustworthy.” 

You laugh sadly. 

“Here’s an idea,” Sasha says. “Why don’t you take Levi’s number from Connie now, and just save it into your phone. That way, you don’t have to decide right now, and you can text him whenever you want to. Plus, if Connie never texts him to say that you’re okay, that’ll keep him thinking about you.” 

“No, that’s mean,” Armin says. “He might really be worried.” 

“Okay, compromise,” Connie says. “How about I just wait an extra day? I’ll act like I forgot. He’ll worry some today, but this way it won’t drag past tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, that’s good!” Sasha agrees. “Plus, maybe if he’s thinking about her today, it’ll become a habit. Your brain is almost as perfect as your face,” she flirts, and then gives her boyfriend a peck on the nose. That peck then becomes a big, long, gross kiss, and the rest of the group dissipates from the table with a collective groan. 

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna get out of here,” Jean says. “I’ve already missed my morning lecture today and I want to get to my afternoon one if I can.” A chorus of agreement resounds as others get their things together. As they do, eventually Connie and Sasha cool down, and you take Levi’s number from Connie. You put it into your phone as ‘levi from the tattooery.’ 

_Levi from the Tattooery,_ you think. _How will_ you _break my heart?_


	6. the Swing of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the chapter! lots of fun stuff in this chapter. we get to hang with eren irl for the first time, plus we get to watch eren and jean get mad at each other! such fun. and for the first time, we get to see what levi gets up to when the reader isn't around. happy reading!

Days have passed and you still haven’t texted Levi. As promised, Connie had texted him the following day just to say that you’re fine, but the text had received no response. You’ve been trying to work up the courage to text Levi, but you just can’t seem to bring yourself to do it, and besides, you have bigger fish to fry right now. Tonight, you’re going to happy hour with Armin, Jean… and Eren. 

This will be the first time you’ve seen him since the end of last semester, and the first time you’ve spoken to him at all since the cancellation text he sent you last week. Truthfully, you really didn’t want to go tonight, but Armin had talked you into it. He’s been feeling very caught between you and Eren, which of course, you sympathize with, so you’d allowed him to arrange an outing with the four of you to try to get things back to normal. When the plans were being set, Jean had told you that _he_ doesn’t want to go, but after you’d explained to him that you need him to be there if you ever want to survive, he’d given in. Even though he doesn’t get along with Eren and he would frankly prefer it if you would use this as an excuse to cut Eren out of your life, Jean is willing to be there for you. Ultimately, you are his best friend, and he loves you very much. 

Which is why, now, you’re putting on a casual yet cute and fun outfit as you wait for Jean to arrive to pick you up. You decide to wear black, high-waisted leggings and a tank top, with a hoodie and sneakers. You and Jean are driving over together, and you assume Eren and Armin are driving together as well, since they’re roommates. You’re pretty nervous. The main objective of tonight is to truly get everything back to normal. Though you do still have feelings for Eren, you are acknowledging by now that your friends are right, and that you shouldn’t try to pursue anything romantic with him if he’s going to be disrespectful. Still, you’d like to keep him as your friend-- not just for Armin, but for yourself. All you want is to be able to have fun times with your three favorite boys in the world, just like before. 

You sigh and pretend to fix your hair in the mirror. You’ve been ready for a few minutes now, but your hands feel like they need to stay busy, so you’re adjusting the locks of hair to frame your face in different ways, knowing full well that as soon as you turn your head they’ll fall wherever they want to. At last, you get a text from Jean telling you that he’s here. 

You head downstairs and out of the building. Jean’s car, an old Camry from 2010 that smells like Glade air freshener, is idling in what is very clearly marked as parking for emergency vehicles. When you sit down in the passenger seat of the car, in lieu of an actual greeting, you say, “You’re really not supposed to stop here.” 

“It was just for a second, nerd.” He grins at you, expecting banter to ensue, but you just stare out of the window and nervously massage your wrist with your opposite hand. “You feeling okay?” he asks. 

You drop your hands and face forward. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just feeling a little anxious.”

He nods, and pulls out of emergency parking, beginning the drive to the Spot. 

Out of the comfortable silence, you say, “Hey, Jean?” 

“What’s up?” 

“Well… You’ve always hated Eren. I’ve always liked him, but you guys never got along. Now, he’s starting to let me down, and… I’m just wondering. Why have you always hated him?”

Jean sighs. “Well, hate is a big word. I don’t think I’d say I _hate_ him, but… Yeah, I guess I’ve never really trusted him. He’s just always rubbed me the wrong way. He’s very… headstrong. And selfish. But…” He turns to you. “This is all fine. This night is fine… You know that, right? Eren might be… like that, but he’s not _mean._ He won’t be bad to you. And I’m there tonight, and Armin’s there-” 

“And Marco,” you cut him off, smiling now. “Marco should be working tonight.” 

“Really? Oh, I don’t know, I guess I haven’t really thought about it,” Jean says, jokingly feigning ignorance. 

You laugh. “Have you been texting him?” 

“No, I don’t have his number, and he doesn’t have mine.” 

“Oh, well, we’ll need to fix that tonight, then, won’t we?” 

“I don’t know, have you been texting Levi?” 

You blush. “No, I haven’t.” 

“Coward,” Jean quips as he pulls the car into a spot outside of the Spot and turns the car off. “You ready?”

“Yeah.” You both get out of the car and walk into the bar. Since it’s happy hour, there’s a decent crowd. Thankfully, though, Eren and Armin got there before you and have claimed a booth. You see them halfway across the room. Eren waves to you coolly, with a friendly smile. Even from across the room, his striking jade eyes are shining at you. You take a deep breath and bravely walk across the room with Jean in tow. Eren sits on the outer end of the arch, with Armin next to him; you sit down next to Armin, and Jean sits on your opposite side, across from Eren. 

“How are you guys?” Eren asks. 

“We’re doing great, Eren, how about you?” you say. 

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks for asking.” 

“We actually just ordered drinks for everyone,” Armin says. “Jack and Cokes.” 

“Awesome. Thanks, sweetie,” you say. “Eren, how was your internship? I haven’t heard about it yet.” 

“It was incredible,” Eren gushes. “The political scene in Europe is so much more interesting than it is here. Plus, everyone really liked me where I was. It was just so nice listening to educated people speak intelligently about their beliefs and opinions.”

“ _You_ must have really stuck out like a sore thumb,” Jean cuts in. 

Eren ignores him and goes on. “And the work was really rewarding, you know? I really felt like I was making a difference and helping and stuff.” 

“Eren, you were a page,” Jean interrupts again. “The only differences you made were adding to the bicycle traffic, and caffeinating diplomats before they debate about whether or not poor people should be allowed to live.” 

“Jean, you goddamn bisexual English major, I swear I’ll kick your ass if you don’t shut the hell up.” 

“Jaeger, I will beat your weak ass so hard you’ll be flying back to fucking Switzerland to stay in the goddamn hospital for free, you dumbass-” 

“Woah, woah, woah!” You hold a hand up to each of the boys and then turn to Jean to whisper, “I thought you said you’d be on your best behavior?” 

“I _never_ said that,” Jean argues. “What I said was that I would physically be here.” 

“Jean, you need to chill the hell out. You’re being way crazier than usual.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll relax.” Thankfully, at that moment, who should arrive delivering drinks for the table but Marco. He greets you, “Hey, how are you guys?” 

“Hi, Marco!” you chirp. “Oh, Marco, this is our friend Eren; Eren, this is Marco.” 

Eren extends his hand to Marco, who gives him a firm handshake and says, “Eren, great to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” 

“You have?” Eren asks and looks to Armin for explanation. 

“Well, we met Marco through (y/n), and she met him here,” Armin explains. 

“Oh, when?” 

“Uh…” Armin stalls and glances at you. 

“Just last week,” you say, deciding to just be honest. “I came here for a drink after I got my piercing. You know, the night you bailed.” 

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that again,” Eren says. “Yeah, I remembered that I had an essay due that night that I hadn’t started yet. I just didn’t have time.” 

You feel your face heat up as surprise colors your cheeks. _He’s lying to me._ You, Armin, Jean, and Marco all glance at each other. 

“What?” Eren asks, confused by the uncomfortable silence. 

Next to you, Jean laughs and takes a sip of his drink. “You know, Eren, if you ever want to make it in politics, you’re going to have to get a _lot_ better at lying.” 

A small gasp escapes Armin and he covers his mouth with his hand as you cringe. Tension rolls into the booth like a thick fog. “Yeah, I’m gonna…” Marco says, and walks away. 

“Lying? Jean, what are you talking about?” Eren asks, hiding discomfort behind a diplomatic smile. 

“Well, we already know that you weren’t writing an essay,” Jean explains passive-aggressively. “You decided to go to a party instead.” 

Eren briefly glances at Armin, who pretends to be mesmerized by his drink sitting on the table. Eren starts to say, “I just-” 

“It’s fine,” you say, cutting him off. “I mean, I wish you would’ve been honest with me, and I wish you would’ve cancelled ahead of time, but really, it’s fine.” 

“Is it?” Jean asks with a tinge of hostility. 

“Yes,” you insist. “Yes, it is, because I ended up having fun that night anyway. I got the piercing, which was fun, and then I came here for a few drinks, and I met Marco, which was also fun...” 

“Plus, she met a guy...” Jean adds, and you kick him under the table. He makes no reaction and simply takes another sip of his drink, as if sipping the tea he just spilled. 

“Oh, you met a guy?” Eren asks, a hint of jealousy in his voice. “Where?” 

“Uh… at the Tattooery,” you say. “And then I ran into him again here.” 

“Oh. That’s cool.” Eren says flatly, looking away and taking a drink, his thick dark hair swishing with the movement of his head. 

You suddenly feel empowered by Eren’s jealousy. “Yeah, it _was_ cool,” you continue. “His name is Levi. He was the one that gave me the piercing, and then when I ran into him here, he was pretty nice to me. And Marco told me later that he seemed interested in me.” 

“That’s great.” 

“Yeah, it _is_ great.” You’re starting to get worked up, now. “And I have his number and everything. I’ve been putting off texting him because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go out with him, but since I’m not involved with anybody, now I’m thinking I’m going to give it a shot.” 

“Oh, you’re not involved with anybody?” 

“No, I’m not, am I, Eren?” You stare viciously into each other’s eyes, like you’re waiting to see who would blink first, both literally and figuratively. 

“Well, isn’t this just _lovely?_ ” Jean says glibly, finishing his drink. Armin, meanwhile, is staring at the ceiling with a look like he’s about to have a heart attack. 

You snap out of your weird, hostile staring contest with Eren to look at Jean. You can hardly believe how terribly this is going. Your goal was to get things back to normal, and instead everything has gotten much, much worse for everyone. _Okay,_ you think to yourself, _I can fix this. I can still bring this back. I just need to lighten the tension somehow._ “Hey Jean,” you say, “Why don’t you tell a funny story or something? Tell a funny Jean story. Anything funny happen to you recently?” 

“Oh, um…” Jean stops grinning like an idiot to think, absentmindedly looking around the room. He glances towards the entrance of the bar, and then snaps his head forward again. “Yeah, I have a funny story. I was talking to a friend of mine, and he told me that recently he was having drinks at a bar with some friends of his, and by some horrible, amazing coincidence, while they were there, a guy he met in a tattoo parlor walked through the door with two of his coworkers, one of whom is the ex girlfriend of one of the friends he was with. Is that crazy, or what?” 

You feel your heart beating in your chest. “Jean, what are you talking about?” 

Without looking at you, Jean cocks his head in the direction of the door. When you look, the breath gets knocked out of your chest. Standing there, having just entered, is Levi, and with him is Mikasa, as well as another tallish woman you recognize from the Tattooery with rusty-colored hair and glasses. 

~~~

“Can you give me even one good reason why not?” 

“Because I don’t want to.” 

“That isn’t a good reason.” 

“Actually, Hanji, it is. It’s the only reason in the world any person needs not to do something.” 

Levi and Hanji are at work. Levi is sitting in a reclining chair meant for customers getting tattoos as Hanji works on a customer’s shoulder in an adjacent seat. Levi wears a black t-shirt and black jeans, just like he always does at work, and Hanji wears blue jeans, a black tank top, and a red-brown hoodie, unzipped. “Well, it’s going to take more than that to convince _me,”_ Hanji argues. “Don’t just say no. The objective of this dialogue is to establish an action plan to help you forget about Petra. I offer: you text that girl’s friend and get her number, then ask her on a date. Now, you make a counter-offer.” 

“Okay, counter-offer: I text no one, I go nowhere, you buy me a bottle of single-malt whiskey and leave me alone.” 

“Levi, for fuck’s sake. Drinking alone is not the answer.” 

“Drinking alone is _always_ the answer. It worked out great last time.” 

“No, it did not. You had half of one drink and almost got into an argument with a stranger. What worked out was that the stranger happened to be nice, and did her very best to talk to you about your feelings. _That’s_ what you need. Now, if you would just text that friend of hers and ask for her number-” 

“I don’t want to.” Levi shakes his head, leaning back in the chair with his hands clasped together behind his neck. “It’s too soon.” 

“Too soon after meeting her?” 

“No, too soon after Petra.” 

“Ugh!” Mikasa complains from across the storefront. “I can’t fucking listen to this anymore.” She crosses the room to stand by Levi and Hanji. She’s wearing black leather pants, combat boots, and a navy blue sweater. “You know, Levi, for someone who claims not to want to talk about his feelings, you sure are hanging out here to whine after your shift already ended.” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Hanji agrees. “But honestly, girl, you’re worse than he is. When that weirdo broke up with you from overseas, you had this huge vein bulging in your forehead for, like, two weeks afterward. You can’t tell me that’s not from repressed feelings. For fuck’s sake, Mikasa, you’re twenty-two years old and I thought you were going to have a legitimate aneurysm.” 

“Well, at least I’m not a fucking cuckold,” Mikasa bites back. 

Levi grimaces as Hanji scolds her: “Hey.” 

“No, she’s right,” Levi concedes. “I shouldn’t even be so upset about it. We were only dating for a few months. Why am I so mad?” 

“Maybe because your human relationships actually mean something to you?” Hanji offers. 

“No, that can’t be it,” Levi says, still puzzling. 

Hanji rolls her eyes. “Okay, you’re done!” she says to the customer in front of her as she applies a bandage to his back. “You can take the bandage off after 24 hours. Then, you need to clean it with antibacterial soap and apply Vaseline twice a day, for the next three weeks. Go ahead and pay Mikasa on your way out.” 

“Cool, thanks,” the customer says and heads to the reception desk. Mikasa sticks her tongue out at Hanji, revealing a tongue piercing, and then follows the customer back to reception to take his payment. 

Now that Hanji’s task is complete, she is free to focus her undivided attention on Levi, which is not good for Levi. “Why do you think you took that girl back to her apartment when you didn’t even know her?” 

“I don’t know. Basic human decency? Boredom?” 

“No, basic human decency says that you call her a cab. And honestly, she was friends with the bartender, so you could have totally just left her there. You not only drove her in your own car, but you also took the time to take her all the way upstairs, _and_ you recruited one of her friends to text you the next morning and tell you she’s okay.” 

“Alright, and?” 

“What I’m saying is, you’re a good person.” 

“Stop.” 

“And you want to love and be loved.” 

“No.” 

“And good people _deserve_ to love and be loved. Now, you don’t have to _marry_ this girl, but she sounds very nice, and very honest, and I think that she could help you stop thinking about Petra. And, from the sound of it, you could probably help her stop thinking about that dick that stood her up. There’s no harm in just getting her number and asking her on a date.” 

Levi groans and covers his face with his hands. “If I say I’ll think about it, will you shut the fuck up?” 

“Gladly!” Hanji gathers her bag and heads to the reception desk, where Mikasa sits alone. “That was the last appointment for today, right?” 

“I’m going drinking,” Levi says, heading toward the doors to the Tattooery as he pulls on a long, soft and warm-looking black coat. 

“Oh, that’s a great idea! Yeah, let’s all go to happy hour at the Spot!” Hanji says excitedly. 

“I kind of meant just me.” 

“I know what you meant, but I took your idea, and I made it better, like in a think tank.”

“We’re supposed to stay open till 6 for walk-ins,” Mikasa cuts in. 

“Oh, whatever,” Hanji waves her hand. “It’s a Thursday. Nobody’s coming. C’mon, let’s go have drinks.” 

Mikasa grunts in agreement and collects her things. “I don’t want this,” Levi says. 

“I know you don’t,” Hanji argues, “But the whole sad guy and inexpensive booze combination worries me.” 

“I’m not sad.” 

“Of course not!” The trio leaves the store and Mikasa turns off the lights and locks the door. “Try to keep up, shortie,” Hanji ribs Levi as the group starts to power off down the street. When they arrive at the Spot and walk through the door, they start scanning the crowded barroom for a place to sit down. As he does so, Levi sees something that makes his breath catch in his chest. “Oh, fuck me,” he says to himself. 

“What?” Hanji says, hearing him and following his sightline. “Who is that?” 

“Nobody.” He looks away.

“That’s her, isn’t it?” 

And there you are, across the room, wrapped up in what looks like a very intense conversation with two friends that Levi recognizes and one that he doesn’t. “Yeah,” Levi sighs. “That’s her.” 


	7. Mutually Assured Destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready for some Tea, bois. happy sunday.

“Oh, my god,” you say under your breath. “Why is this happening?” 

Jean shrugs. “Who knows? Personally, I think it’s the universe rewarding me for being a good friend, and punishing Eren for acting like a dick.” 

“I’m sorry, how is this a punishment for anyone but me?” 

“How is what a punishment?” Eren asks. Armin has already noticed who walked through the door, and seems like he would be more freaked out by this turn of events if he weren’t already maxed out in that regard. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Jean answers for you. “But we did just notice that Levi walked in here with some of his coworkers.” 

Eren nonchalantly looks in the direction of the door, but his eyes widen at what he sees. “Wh- that’s Mikasa. Isn’t it?” He turns to Armin, who nods. “Oh, God… wait, that guy is the one you were talking about, (y/n)?” 

“Mm-hm.” 

Eren’s discomfort at seeing Mikasa seems to dissolve, and he simply says, “Interesting,” with a hint of judgement, sipping his drink. 

You’re unbelievably offended by this. “Excuse me?” 

But before Eren has a chance to elaborate, Jean is saying, “Oh, he sees us. And so do the other two. The tall one looks friendly… You know what, I’m gonna wave them over.” 

“Don’t do this!” you whisper-snap at Jean, but he’s already waving. 

“Oh, the tall one sees me… She’s waving back! Okay, here they come.” He turns to you. “(Y/n), this is only a punishment for you if you make it one. A guy just walked in that you already like and who likes you. And yeah, Mikasa’s here, but you don’t know her, and she doesn’t know you. All the pressure to act casual is on _Eren,_ not you.” 

You pucker your lips in a dumbfounded pout as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s about to happen. _Jean’s right. This is fine… Just be cool, and there’s no problem._ After a moment, Levi and his entourage land at your booth, led by the tall one with whom you have yet to interact, but who you vaguely recognize from the first time you went to the Tattooery. She smiles at you and extends her hand to you, saying, “Hi, I’m Hanji, I work with Levi. I think you know him?” 

You decide to take on an air of total amicability, and so accept her handshake and smile. “Yes, I do, we’ve met a couple times before. Great to meet you, Hanji, I’m (y/n). Hey, Levi.” 

He gives you a polite nod and then looks away, an almost imperceptible blush gracing his cheeks. 

“Well, we just came here for happy hour after work,” Hanji says. “Maybe we could join you guys?” 

“Yeah! The more the merrier,” Jean replies for you. Hanji pulls three chairs from a nearby table. As she does, Mikasa leans to her and very covertly whispers something in her ear. “Oh, okay,” Hanji says quietly. She then moves herself to Mikasa’s other side. You realize then that Mikasa was about to have to sit next to Eren. Mikasa must have said something to Hanji to indicate that she didn’t want to. _That was really discreet,_ you think. _Hanji must be a pretty cool person._

So, Hanji sits down in a chair next to Eren, Levi sits in a chair next to Jean, and Mikasa sits in between the two. “So, what’re we talking about?” Hanji asks. 

“Uh…” you stall, not wanting to say what you were actually talking about, which was Eren bailing on you, and you meeting Levi. 

“I was just saying how I like the new piercing (y/n) got last week,” Jean rescues you. “You did that, right, Levi?” 

“Yes.” 

“Um…” Jean turns to you. “Hey, (y/n), would you switch seats with me? I want to ask Armin a question.” He smiles at you. 

“Sure, Jean,” you say with thinly veiled frustration. 

“Awesome.” He awkwardly scooches himself in between you and Armin, smushing you slightly in the process. Now, you’re sitting next to Levi. “Hi,” you say. 

“Hey,” Levi sighs. “I’m sorry about this.” 

“Oh, don’t be.” You wave your hand in dismissal. “I’m glad for the addition.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course.” You suddenly remember that there’s other people at the table, and you realize that none of them are talking. You do a quick scan of the peanut gallery. Both Jean and Hanji are grinning like they each have an evil plan that has just now come to fruition. Armin looks sort of rattled yet bored (at least he doesn’t look terrified anymore). Mikasa’s face doesn’t betray any emotion, but she’s pointedly looking at the table, and has her arms and legs crossed. Eren is looking at you with an expression that was probably supposed to be neutral, but which you recognize as one of confusion, surprise, hurt, and jealousy. You turn to Jean. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you go get some drinks for our new friends? Chat with Marco. Try to get his number.” 

Jean looks surprised that you’re ordering him away, but you can’t imagine how he could be, since he’s been sabotaging you all night. “Yeah, sure.” He awkwardly shimmies past you again to get out of the booth. 

“Who’s Marco?” Hanji asks. 

“The bartender,” you explain, and smile. “He and my friend Jean-- he’s the one that just went to get drinks-- have a bit of a thing going on.” 

“Oh, that’s exciting!” 

“I know, right? I met Marco here the same night I ran into Levi, and I kept telling him-- Marco-- how I had a friend that I thought he would really hit it off with. I guess I was right.” 

“When did Marco meet him?” Levi asks. 

“Oh, um…” You laugh slightly, nervous to divulge that information. “Well, when you brought me back to my apartment, apparently Marco followed us, and then he bonded with Jean and my other friends.” 

Levi narrows his eyes. “Wait, why would he follow us?” 

You laugh nervously again. “I guess he wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to try anything fishy.” 

“Oh, really?” Levi raises his eyebrows and sounds offended. 

“Oh, it is _not_ a big deal. He was just being cautious. I mean, I was completely wrecked. I’m sure he would have done that no matter who it was driving me home.” 

“Hm. Okay...” 

You glance at Eren and see that he’s still watching you. You glance at Mikasa and see that she’s now watching Eren watching you. _I bet she still has feelings for him,_ you think. _Hell, I get it. And probably, if Hanji weren’t sitting between them, Eren might have started talking to Mikasa, or the other way around._ Just then, Jean returns with Marco and another round of drinks for the whole table. “Hey guys, this round’s on the house,” Marco says. 

A chorus of thank-yous sounds from the group. After Eren takes his drink, he stands up, casually slides past Hanji, places his hand on Mikasa’s shoulder, and leans down to whisper something in her ear, then walks away. Mikasa is clearly affected by what was probably a summons, and stands to follow Eren away. 

“You know, I don’t think I recognize that guy,” Levi says to no one in particular. “Wait…” he turns to you. “Is that Eren?” 

“Yep,” you say with a forcibly chipper air. “Mikasa’s ex and the guy that bailed on me last week.” 

Levi looks off spacily in the direction Eren and Mikasa left and takes a sip of his drink. “Interesting.” 

You laugh. “You know, he said the same thing about you.” 

“He did? When?” 

“Just now, when you walked in, and he saw you, and I said who you were.” 

“Huh. Well, we seem pretty different. I guess it makes sense that we’d be interesting to each other.” 

You smile and laugh. “I don’t think that’s what _either_ of you meant by ‘interesting’.”

“No, I guess not,” Levi says, smiling slightly behind taking another sip of his drink. You take a quick look around again and notice that Jean never sat back down after the drinks came. He and Marco are now at a nearby table, having what looks like a very friendly conversation. There, in your booth, Hanji has now started talking with Armin, who looks very grateful to have a pleasant ally to speak with right now. You feel a twinge of guilt. 

It must have shown on your face, because Levi asks you, “What’s that look?” 

“Oh, um…” You sigh and decide to just be honest, since it’s worked pretty well with him so far. “My friend talking to Hanji right now, Armin? He’s friends with Jean and Eren and I, and the fact that I’ve been cross with Eren recently has been tough for him. He’s the one that thought it might be good for the four of us to get drinks together and try to get things back to normal. The four of us have been friends since freshman year. So, I just feel sort of bad.” 

“Why do you feel bad?” 

“Well, when you guys got here, it wasn’t going very well. I was starting to get into a bit of a fight with Eren.” You explain the conversation that had preceded Levi’s arrival: Eren trying to lie to you, Jean letting slip that Armin had told you why Eren bailed, the uncomfortable dialogue between you and Eren that had ensued. You speak vaguely about what you'd said to Eren to upset him, not wanting Levi to know that you had been talking about him, but you sense that he picks up that you’d told Eren about him anyway. 

“Why would Jean do that?” Levi asks. “I mean, if he knew you were trying to mend the fence, why would he bother Eren like that?” 

“They don’t really get along,” you explain. “They never have. The only reason Jean even comes around when he knows Eren will be there is because of me. Jean and I have been friends since high school, so he’s pretty much my best friend around here.” 

“Hm.” Levi sips his drink thoughtfully. 

“What?” you ask. 

Levi shrugs. “Well, I just think that if Jean was _actually_ trying to be a good friend to you, he’d try to avoid conflict. I mean, it basically sounds like he’s the one that initiated all the… discomfort tonight.” 

You feel a little bit defensive. “He can’t help that, I don’t think, at least not completely. I mean, now that Eren’s starting to let me down, it kind of makes sense that he never trusted him. I think I should have been paying more attention to the fact that Jean didn’t like him. Kind of how you should listen to your dog when it barks at a stranger.” You grimace. “That came out wrong. You know what I mean.” 

“But you wanted to be a friend to Eren, right? You wanted to get closer to him? And Jean knew that?” 

You hesitate. “Yeah…” 

Levi tilts his head, expressing an air of judgement as he highlights his defined jawline. “I don’t know. It seems like maybe Jean should have just respected your wishes, that is, if he _actually_ wanted to support you. And this Armin guy? Telling you that Eren bailed on you to go to a party, when he knew it would upset you and that he wasn’t supposed to say?” He shrugs. “I’m not sure that any of these people are really your friends.” 

Now you’re mad. “Okay, excuse me, but you don’t get to say that. These are _my_ friends. You don’t know them. You don’t know my relationships. You barely know _me._ ” 

Levi isn’t rattled. “You’re right.” He turns to you, his piercing grey eyes peering into your soul. “I _don’t_ know you.” 

You don’t know what to say. You turn away from him, the first one to break the eye contact, and scan the room again. While you and Levi were talking, Hanji and Armin left to join Marco and Jean at their table a few yards away. They look like they’re having a good time. The bar has cleared out a bit now, since happy hour is over but it’s not late at night yet, so you can more easily see the full scope of the barroom. You see a different bartender working the bar itself, and sitting there at the bar is Eren and Mikasa. They’re deeply engrossed in their conversation and… Eren’s hand is on Mikasa’s thigh. 

As you look at them, Levi follows your gaze. When he sees them, he says, “Hm. Go figure.” 

You turn away from the scene across the bar and ask, “What do you mean?” 

Levi glances at you and then away again, deciding whether or not he wants to explain his thinking to you. Ultimately, he decides he does, and turns his chair to face himself completely toward you, as opposed to ninety degrees away from you, as he had been. “I know Mikasa still cares about Eren. She acts like she’s this ultra-stubborn badass, but deep down, she’s this bleeding heart romantic… blegh. And Eren…” Levi shrugs. “Well, let’s just say I think there’s a very specific reason he decided to give her his attention tonight.”

“What do you mean?” 

Levi hesitates. “Well, not to flatter myself or anything, but it seems like he’s feeling a little bit threatened. I mean, he thinks he’s going to have a fun night with his friends, and then his ex girlfriend walks in and, surprise, there’s also this other guy. I mean, let’s be honest… it sure does seem like our friends are pushing us together.” You blush slightly and look away as he continues, “Actually, I sort of feel bad for the guy.” 

You’re surprised, and a little offended. “I’m sorry, you feel _bad_ for him?” 

“Sure. It can’t be easy. And yeah, he screwed up, but he probably never expected to completely lose you over it.” He pauses, subtly biting his lip. “And really, I’m not all that sure that he should. At least, not just because of this.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah. I’ve had my fair share of screw-ups, and the bottom line is… everyone deserves a second chance.” 

You see a glimmer of something different behind his eyes, something like guilt, but it’s gone before you can make sense of it. You decide to diffuse a little bit of the odd tension that’s built up. “Well, it’s not just the screw up. I never liked him a _ton_ anyway.” 

“No?”

“No. I mean, we get along really great as friends, and we’re close, and I’m… attracted to him and everything, but I’m not crazy about him. The main reason I’m still upset with him is that it’s created ripples that are causing problems with other friendships I have. Honestly… now, I kind of want to get back at him. And more than that, I’d really like to think about someone else.” You shake your head, symbolically shaking off the strange, emotional vibe that you’d just gotten into. You change the subject. “So, you don’t like that Mikasa’s a romantic?” 

“Hm? Oh, um…” Levi shrugs. “It’s fine for her, but I’m definitely not like that.” 

“No? Why not?” 

He glances at you quickly, and in that instant, you can almost see the wall being built up behind his eyes. “I have my reasons.” 

You recognize that look from the last time you met him here. He had that look on his face when you asked him what he was thinking about, and he said that he was thinking about work. _Maybe he wasn’t thinking about work._

You glance at Eren again from across the room. He still has his hand on Mikasa’s leg. He’s angled so that he’s faced in your direction, and Mikasa is facing almost directly away. He sees you looking at him and unexpectedly meets your eyes. He holds contact there, for a second or two, and then Mikasa tilts her head to catch his eyes again. Eren looks at her, glances at you for just a moment more, then suddenly reaches his other hand up to grab her face and kiss her deeply. 

The kiss goes on and on, illuminated by the low, romantic sepia lighting of the bar. You can feel your heart sinking into the pit of your stomach. But Levi saw the look on your face, and saw what you were looking at. “I have an idea,” he says. 

You reluctantly look away from Eren and Mikasa to meet his eyes. “What is it?” 

“Just go with it,” Levi says. He raises his left hand and places it gently yet firmly on your neck, then slides it up to hold the side of your head, his thumb and forefinger on your cheek, his other three fingers behind your ear in your hair. Your breath gets caught in your chest and you feel yourself start to blush. It reminds you a bit of the way he held you still to pierce your ear. He smoothly leans in close enough that his nose brushes against yours. He pauses there for a moment, and then softly presses his lips to yours. There are no thoughts in your head and your eyes are wide open at first, but after a few moments you relax and start to kiss him back. His bottom lip graces your top lip as you open your jaw slightly, and you can feel the cold metal of the snake bite piercings of his bottom lip. The kiss then becomes a bit deeper, his lips pressing more firmly against yours as his tongue gently pushes just past your teeth. Then, suddenly, he pulls away from you and looks into your eyes, his hand still holding your face. You are so shocked that you still can’t muster any thoughts or any words. “Did he see?” Levi asks. 

Your eyes automatically dart in Eren's direction, and you see for just an instant that yes, he was looking at you, before he avoids your eyes and returns to necking with his ex-girlfriend. “Yes,” you tell Levi. 

“Good, then,” Levi says, and drops his hand, returning to his original position-- that is, physically withheld from you. 

You blink twice. Levi’s turned away from you and is downing the rest of his drink, but you’re still looking at him. “Why the hell did you do that?” you ask. 

Levi shrugs. “Thought it would probably make him jealous. That’s what you want, right? To get his attention?” 

“I-I guess…” You turn away from him and find your own drink. The second one that Marco had brought is still untouched, and you pick it up and drink it all in one go. After you finish, you exhale, puckering your lips and letting your cheeks puff. You look back up at Levi to say something, but a commotion a few yards behind him in your line of vision catches your attention. Hanji, Jean, Armin, and Marco are all talking with each other giddily, alternating between looking at each other and glancing and pointing at you. “I don’t think Eren was the only one that saw,” you say slowly. 

“What?” Levi says, sounding slightly alarmed. As if on cue, Hanji and Jean get up at that moment, grinning like idiots, and walk quickly over to you and Levi. Jean reaches out to you as if to take your hand and excitedly says, “Hey, (y/n), come here, I need to talk to you for a minute!” 

“What? Why are you…” you stammer, instinctively reaching your hand out to Jean to match. 

He takes it immediately and practically drags you out of the booth. “Oh, come on, now, you…” He pulls you away and to a corner of the room. He points at you. “I saw that!” 

“Oh, really?” you say sarcastically. “Why the hell did you bring me over here?” 

“You looked like you needed to be rescued,” Jean says honestly. “He kissed you? What the hell is going on? What is this?” 

“Well, I kissed a guy for one minute, and now I’m talking to my friend about it, so I guess this is middle school! Also, I did _not_ need to be rescued; I can take care of myself. And anyway, I thought you _wanted_ me to kiss him.” 

“I did, but I didn’t think you’d do it this fast.” 

“Well, you can relax, virgin. He only did it because I was talking about Eren and he thought that if Eren saw that, it would make him jealous.” 

“Oh, what a load of CRAP! He just wanted to kiss you, duh! If a guy wants to kiss you, he’ll think of any excuse to do it that doesn’t make him look like a weirdo.” 

Meanwhile, back at the booth, Levi is getting earful from Hanji. “What did I tell you? _What did I tell you?!_ Are you or are you not distracted? I did a great job. I should get a Nobel Prize for this.” 

“Why did that horse-faced goon just remove her from here?” Levi asks angrily. 

“Oh, I have no idea. _I_ thought we were coming over here to ask you guys if you wanted for all of us to have dinner together.” 

Levi buries his face in his hands. “Argh! Why did I do that? That was so fucking stupid. She could barely look at me.” 

“No! No! That was a good thing! That was good! Oh, Levi, don’t freak out.” 

“Too late. I want to leave. That was a horrible decision.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, I want to leave. Now.” He gets up and pushes in his chair, throwing on his jacket. “I’m walking back to my car in the parking lot at work. Do whatever you want, but I’m not staying here. I can’t believe I just did that…” 

“Levi…” Hanji says weakly as he walks away. 

From the corner, you look over Jean’s shoulder to see Levi crossing the barroom and leaving through the door. “What?...” you say to yourself. You look back to the booth and see Hanji standing next to it. She watches Levi exit, then she sees you looking at her and runs her hand through her hair. For a moment, she looks torn between going to you and following Levi out, but she ultimately decides to go with Levi. As she crosses past the bar on her way to the exit, Mikasa, who is still with Eren, sees her, and after glancing back at the booth to see it empty, seems to give Eren a quick farewell before hurriedly following Hanji out of the door. 

“Just as mysteriously as they came…” you say to yourself, and then turn to Jean. “What now?” 

“Now…” Jean sighs. “Now, I think we leave.” You nod, and go back to the booth to get your things. Jean quickly says goodbye to Marco and Armin, and then you and he walk out together to his car. It’s a short drive home. Jean seems to want to ask you about what's just happened, but you pointedly stare out of the window with your chin resting in your palm. You don’t want to talk right now, to anybody. You just want to think. 

When you get back to your apartment, you trudge into your room and collapse face-first on your bed. The feeling of the comforter on your face is, well, comforting. _I guess that’s why they call it a comforter_ , you think. You flip yourself over so that you face up, your limbs haphazardly splayed out, your eyes fixed on the beige ceiling. 

You close your eyes, and in the darkness, you see Levi’s eyes peering into yours. Holding still, you can feel his hand on the side of your face, and if you focus, you can feel how his lips touched yours. 

_Oh, fuck me,_ you think. _That is_ not _what was supposed to happen tonight._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the slow burn is getting fanned into a flame :)


	8. Committee Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone, happy sunday! sorry i always post in the evening or at night. posting is a treat and i never let myself do it until all my work that day is done. anyway, now my semester is over, so i'm going to be drafting and editing a bit more quickly. and now that i'm outlining more chapters i have a promise to you all: by the time we get to the end of this story, you'll have two detailed smut scenes. that's a ficbunnyKay guarantee. anyways-- enjoy this chapter. i know i do.

You wake up the next morning with the most intense spiritual hangover you’ve ever had. You only had three drinks the night before, so you’re not getting a headache or any icky tummy stuff, but you’re feeling all of the emotional exhaustion you would usually feel after a night of binge drinking. You stretch and let out a long, deep groan, as if trying to release all of the upset tension in your chest. Then, you roll over to unplug your phone and check the time. 10:49. Thank goodness it’s a Friday-- you don’t have any classes until the afternoon. 

You roll out of bed, then trudge out of your bedroom and into the common area of your apartment. Sitting at the dining table is Sasha, still in pajamas and a messy bun from the night, eating toast with jam and drinking coffee. “Hey, roomie!” she says. “Sleep well?” 

You grunt discontentedly and ask, “Aren’t you usually in class by now?” 

“Yeah, but it got cancelled. My professor got attacked by a swarm of bees while he was on his riding lawn mower, and they stung him so much he had to go to the hospital.” 

“Oh, my god! That’s… really bad, but also kind of funny.” 

“Don’t worry, it’s okay to laugh; he’s a dick. How did it go last night with the boys?” 

You sit down next to Sasha and prepare to unload last night’s story on her. “Awful. Just the worst. The only way it could have gone worse is if I’d gotten attacked by a swarm of bees.” You give Sasha a brief rundown of everything that happened last night, from the argument with Eren, to Eren and Mikasa, to Levi kissing you. You’re praying that Sasha sympathizes with you and can give you some guiding wisdom. 

When you finish your story, Sasha says, “Wow, that really could not have gone worse.”

“I know! And I feel so terrible now. Armin organized that whole thing so that we could have a normal friend group again, and it all blew up. I must have really set Eren off for him to go nuts and be all over Mikasa like that. Although…” you trail off, remembering something from the night before.

“What?” Sasha asks. 

“Well, when I told Levi, he said that it sounded like it was Jean’s fault for getting Eren all riled up, and that he shouldn’t have told Eren things about me that would make him mad. He even said that Armin was wrong to tell us that Eren bailed on me to go to a party. He said that they ‘weren’t really my friends.’ Can you believe that? I was so pissed.” 

“Yeah, I get that. But, you know, he’s got a point. Jean really shouldn’t have pushed Eren’s buttons if he knew you were there specifically to get along with him. Levi still shouldn’t have  _ said _ that, though. That’s not cool.” 

“And you’re never gonna believe what else he said. Even after everything I told him about Eren, he said that I should go easy on him. He said that ‘everyone deserves a second chance.’ What the fuck? I mean, Eren was literally on the other side of the bar flirting with his ex, who is Levi’s cousin, by the way, and he says I should give Eren a second chance.” 

“Unbelievable. But it totally only made you want Levi more, right?” 

You sigh deeply and smack your hand on the table. “Yes. Yes, it did.” 

“I get it, girl. There’s nothing hotter than a guy that likes you telling you to be healthy and give the guy  _ you _ like a second chance. It’s like, the fact that he wants you to have autonomy and make that choice for yourself makes you want to choose him.” 

“Yes, yes. But this is neither here nor there. I  _ shouldn’t _ give Eren a second chance, right?” 

“No, you shouldn’t… But not necessarily because he fucked up.” 

You furrow your brows. “Well, why, then?” 

“Because now, you’ve found someone better who has  _ yet _ to fuck up. Someone you like even more.” 

“I don’t like Levi more than I like Eren. I mean, I definitely like him, but not more than Eren.” 

“Oh, really? Because ever since the night that Eren bailed on you and you ran into Levi in the bar, you’ve been talking about Levi about ten times more than you talk about Eren. And correct me if I’m wrong, but just now when you were telling me about last night, you sounded way more upset by Levi picking up and leaving than you did by Eren kissing Mikasa. You can’t hide from me, girl. I know a smitten kitten when I see one.” 

You feel your face heat up. “That’s- That’s not-” You give up and bury your face in your hands. “Ugh, I just feel so guilty! I’ve been on again/off again with Eren for years, and now I’m just dropping it the second another guy comes along?” 

“That’s what I thought. Alright, now listen-- you’re clearly not ‘just dropping him,’ so don’t feel weird about that. You’re not a robot. You still have feelings for him; you’re just feeling more strongly about someone else now.” 

“But Eren looked so upset,” you whine. “Last night when Levi got there and we were flirting with each other? Eren looked so dejected and angry and jealous. I think he feels more strongly about me than I thought.” 

“Well, if he does, then that’s his problem. He’s had literally  _ years _ to act on it, but he hasn’t. You deserve to pursue something with somebody that actually makes moves on you.” 

“Yeah, I guess… But Levi said that he only kissed me because he thought I wanted to make Eren jealous!” 

“Well, didn’t Jean say he was probably just looking for an excuse to kiss you?” 

“Yeah, but Jean doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.  _ You’ve _ never put any faith in his theories.”

“This time, I agree with him. Guys do that, you know. They don’t know how to be direct a lot of the time with their words, so instead they’re direct with their actions and then make up some words to justify them.” 

“But we were alone. Why wouldn’t he just-” You’re cut off by your phone buzzing on the table. “Hang on a sec,” you say to Sasha as you answer the call. “What is it, Jean?” 

“Are you home?” 

“Yes. Why?” 

“I’m outside with donuts.” 

“Okay. Why?” 

“I feel bad! Can I come upstairs? Please?” 

You sigh. “Yeah, fine. Door’s open.” You hang up. “Jean has donuts. He’ll be up in a few minutes. He said he feels bad.” 

“He should!” Sasha exclaims, and takes a sip of her coffee. 

“I mean, I’m a little pissed at him, but I’m not angry. He doesn’t need to do all this.” 

“Well, you know Jean. Always with the impulsivity.” 

“Yeah.” You sigh again and smile. “You know, sometimes I think the reason he and Eren butt heads so much is because they’re similar, not because they’re different. They’re both stubborn and impulsive as all fuck, so if they have a difference of opinion, it’s volcanic.” 

“Amen to that.” 

You get up to pour yourself a cup of coffee. As you’re stirring in cream and sugar, you hear the door of the apartment open and then slam shut. From down the hall, with footfalls: “(Y/n)! It’s me!” 

“We’re in the kitchen!” Sasha yells back to him. 

Jean appears from the entrance hallway with a half-dozen box of Dunkin donuts and a nervous smile. He’s wearing cuffed jeans and a hoodie, and it looks like he took the time to style his hair. “Hello, Jean,” you greet him, leaning your back against the kitchen counter as you stir your coffee. 

“I have donuts,” he says. 

“I can see that.” 

“I feel bad.” 

“You already said that.” 

He pauses and holds out the box to you with both hands. “I’m sorry.” 

You put your hand on the box to accept it, but pause to narrow your eyes and say, “What are you sorry  _ for _ ?” 

Jean rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry for setting off Eren, and telling him about Levi, and just generally being an ass and causing problems.” 

You smile and take the box. “Apology accepted. That was very nice.” 

“I’m satisfied,” Sasha concurrs from the dining room table. 

“What, you told her?” Jean accuses you. 

“Of course I did, I told her everything.” 

“Yeah, of course she did,” Sasha adds. “I’m only her roommate. What donuts did you bring?” 

“Two Boston creme for me, two chocolate with chocolate glaze for you, and two blueberry for (y/n).” 

“Aw, you got some just for me?” Sasha coos. “What a sweetie pie!” 

“Well, I figured you might be here, and I knew that if I didn’t get you some you’d just end up eating mine. Because you basically turn into a feral pig when there’s food in question.” 

You bring the box of donuts to the table, along with your coffee, and sit back down next to Sasha. Jean pours himself a cup of coffee and leaves it black, then comes to sit down on your other side. You take a donut from the box and say, “Sasha and I are talking about my feelings for Levi, discussing the ethics of dumping Eren for him, and establishing that ‘dumping’ is an overstatement.” 

“Mm-hm,” Jean nods, sipping his coffee. “Well, this is great news! What are your feelings for Levi, exactly?” 

Sasha cuts in to explain through a mouthful of chocolate donut: “The feelings are of a romantic and sexual nature, and are stronger than her feelings for Eren.” 

“Thank you, Sasha,” you deadpan. “I could have told him that myself. It would have taken a lot longer, though.” 

“You’re welcome,” Sasha says, smiling teasingly.

“And what about the ethics?” Jean asks. 

You jump in before Sasha says anything: “It’s okay to go out with him because Eren never bothered to ask me out, and also because I feel more strongly about Levi than I do about Eren. 

“And because Eren fucked you over?” Jean adds tentatively. 

“No, that’s not a factor,” you reply. “Just because he fucked up once doesn’t mean I’m automatically done with him.”

“But you  _ are _ done with him?” 

“Yes, but it’s not just because of that one thing. And I’m not  _ done _ with him; we can still be friends. I’m just not gonna pursue anything romantic with him.” 

“Okay, I see.” Jean nods thoughtfully and takes a bite of his donut. “Well, what now with Levi?” 

“We haven’t gotten to that yet.” 

“(Y/n), I think you should just ask him out,” Sasha says. 

“Huh? Why me?” 

“Because the ball is in your court,” Sasha explains. “He kissed you, and then your reaction was kind of weird, and then he left. He was probably embarrassed. If you want to salvage this,  _ you _ have to make the next move.” 

“My reaction was weird?” 

“Um,  _ yeah _ ,” Jean says. “After a guy kisses a girl, he doesn’t want to hear ‘Why the hell did you do that?’. It’s not exactly encouraging. Sasha’s right; you need to make the next move if you want anything to happen. And you  _ do _ want something to happen, right?” 

You sigh deeply and put down your mug to rub the back of your neck. “Yes. I really do. He makes me feel so… energized. And when he talks, I’m totally captivated. I don’t know what exactly I want to happen, but I know I want  _ something _ .” 

“I think you know what you want,” Sasha says with a slight air of superiority. “And it’s important to be honest with yourself right from the beginning.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Sasha smiles gently at you. “I know you, (y/n). You’re not looking for something casual. You need more than that. Maybe you want to take it slow and get more serious over time, but I  _ know _ you don’t want something that’s just physical, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want just casual dates with no commitment, either.” 

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.” You sip your coffee and take a bite of donut. 

“Wait. I have a concern,” Jean cuts in. 

“What is it?” you say through a mouthful of blueberry donut. 

“Well… How old is this guy?” 

You and Sasha look at each other with furrowed brows. Neither of you had really been thinking about that, and now you don’t know what to say. You decide to think out loud: “Um… Well, I don’t know how old he is. I mean, I have no reason to know that, but I don’t think he’s trying to hide anything… There’s just never been a reason for him to tell me his age, I guess. Just based off of appearance I might say 24, 25?” 

“Yes, 24 or 25 sounds right,” Sasha immediately agrees. “I don’t think that’s weird. You’re both adults, right? And both above the legal drinking age. That’s only 3 or 4 years’ difference. I think it’s okay.” 

“Yeah, I think it’s okay,” you echo. “I mean, he does seem a whole lot more mature than me, but I don’t feel like I’m being targeted or groomed, or anything. Feels normal.” 

“I might even say that it’s a good thing he’s older,” Jean adds. “Your whole problem with Eren was the immaturity, right?” 

“And the lies and the lack of communication-slash-commitment and all. I guess that all could come from immaturity, though, right? But yeah, I don’t think I would end up having these same problems with Levi.” 

Sasha lightly pounds her fists simultaneously on the table, like she’s adjourning a Senate committee meeting. “Alright, then, it’s settled. Age difference: not weird.” 

The longer you talk about Levi, the more your head is being filled with him. Each mention of him recalls an image…  _ Levi _ , and you see his hands, with careful, thin fingers;  _ Levi _ , and you hear his deep, soft, rasping voice;  _ Levi _ , and you see his lithe arms, the smooth, inked skin of his neck, the gentle, angled curve of his jaw, the light in his darkly shining gray eyes… “I want to ask him out. Right now. Right the hell now. I want to text him right this second.”

“Yes! Yes!” Sasha encourages. “Go on, yes. Right now. Good.” 

You hurriedly pick up your phone off of the kitchen table and open the Messages app. You start a new message to “levi from the tattooery” and type out:  _ hey, this is (y/n). (l/n). from last night, and last week, and the month before that. i got your number last week from Connie. that’s the friend you gave it to. anyway i was wondering if you might want to hang out sometime. i’m free whenever _ . You immediately hit send before you lose your nerve, and then read the text out loud to Jean and Sasha. 

Sasha critiques it: “You sound really weird, and like you’re a twelve-year-old that’s never spoken to a boy before. We need to make some major changes before you send it.” 

You grow instantly frantic. “I already sent it! Why would you say that?! I can’t change it now! Oh, my god, take it away from me.” You pointedly put your phone facedown on the table, and Sasha picks it up to put in her lap. “Don’t give it back to me for at least half an hour. Or maybe just not until he responds. If he responds. Oh, god…” 

~~~

An hour later, Levi arrives at work at the Tattooery. Immediately after he enters, Mikasa says, “You’re late. You were supposed to be here at eleven,” and upon looking up at him, follows that statement with, “Woah, what the fuck happened to you?” 

“Nothing. Leave me alone.” Levi walks past reception without looking at Mikasa, passes the main storefront without looking at Hanji, and goes directly into the little nook he uses to give piercings and shuts the door. If there had been any customers in the store at that moment, they would have been bewildered by Mikasa’s reaction to his appearance-- they would think he looks like a normal guy showing up to work. A regular customer might even notice that he’s wearing the same outfit he’s always wearing. But this would be a layman’s perspective; Hanji and Mikasa both know better. 

Hanji approaches the reception desk with an alarmed look on her face to lean on the counter. “Okay-- Late for work, wearing a winter jacket before December, one shoe untied, eyebags more than usual, Starbucks coffee instead of a travel mug. I’m thinking-” 

“Downward spiral,” Mikasa finishes with her in unison. Mikasa then continues: “And from the looks of it, the t-shirt hasn’t been ironed, which is bone-chilling.” 

“Do you think he drank more when he got home last night?” 

“Probably. Farlan’s still-”

“-In Philadelphia with Isabel,” Hanji finishes. Isabel is Levi’s half-sister, and Farlan is his long-time roommate. Farlan had gone with her on a trip to visit her parents, which Levi decided to pass on. “He always drinks more when Farlan’s not there.” 

“Dude really cannot handle living alone,” Mikasa comments. “Do you still have his phone?” 

“Yes. I can’t believe he hasn’t noticed yet.” Levi had accidentally left his phone on the table at the Spot the night before in his haste to leave. Hanji had noticed it and picked it up after she followed him out, but he had moved unexpectedly fast, and was already down the block by the time Hanji got out the door. He hadn’t heard her call to him, or at least he pretended not to hear. Hanji had decided to just let him go and give his phone back to him tomorrow, figuring that he was beyond interacting with other people at that point. 

“I can believe it,” Mikasa says. “He barely uses that thing.” 

“Okay, enough of this.” Hanji cranes her neck toward the side room Levi retreated to, and shouts, “Leviiiiii, come out heeeeere! I have something for youuuuu!” 

There’s the sound of a door opening, after which Levi emerges, looking discontented, like a teenager that was just woken up against his will early on a Saturday. “What do you want, four-eyes?” 

“I think  _ you _ might want  _ this _ .” Hanji holds out his cell phone. 

He takes it and grunts in lieu of a thank-you, then turns to go back to his lair. 

“Oh-no, I don’t think so,” Hanji says and races across the room to block his path. “Levi, this is the loudest cry for help I’ve ever seen in my life,” she says, gesturing vaguely to all of him. “Are you hungover?” 

“I may have had a drink… or six, last night when I went home, but at this point, I’m done talking about it.” He maneuvers to get past her. 

Hanji blocks him again. “Levi, you really can’t be doing that. It’s not healthy.”

“Get out of my way, four-eyes,” Levi growls. 

Hanji reluctantly obeys, and Levi goes back into the side room. Hanji walks back to the reception desk, shrugging. “I tried.” 

“He probably just needs an hour to wake up and be less dehydrated,” Mikasa suggests.

Hanji nods, then turns her head because, suddenly and without preamble, the door to the side room opens again. Levi comes fast-walking into the entranceway of the Tattooery, slams his phone down on the reception desk, and then sits down in a folding chair by the entrance. “She texted me,” he says. 

“Who?” Hanji asks as Mikasa picks up Levi’s cell phone. 

“Did you leave this unlocked on purpose?” Mikasa asks, then, as she peruses the contents of the phone, “Oh, wow.” She turns to Hanji. “(Y/n).”

“What?” Hanji takes the phone from Mikasa and frantically reads the text. “Aw, this is so cute! Good for her, asking the guy out. Very progressive.” 

“Are you gonna respond?” Mikasa asks. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Um, I’m pretty sure you meant  _ how _ are you gonna respond, right, Mikasa?” Hanji asks. 

“He doesn’t have to reply,” Mikasa says defensively. “Not if he doesn’t want to see her again.” 

“Um, no, he  _ has _ to reply. It’s polite.” 

“No, I don’t have to reply,” Levi cuts in. “But that’s not the question.” 

“Well, then what’s the question?” Hanji asks. 

“He feels like he would be cheating on Petra if he said yes,” Mikasa says knowingly as she looks at Levi. He’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, his folded hands covering his mouth, staring into the middle distance, not moving. 

Hanji sighs. “Okay…” She quietly sits down in a chair next to Levi. “Look, shorty, you don’t have to see this girl if you don’t want to, or if you feel like you aren’t ready. I know you only just ended things with Petra, like, two weeks ago. Less. I do think you should reply to her, though, just to be courteous. Even if you don’t want to see her, it’s better to-” 

“I never said that,” Levi interrupts. 

“Never said what?” Hanji asks. 

“That I don’t want to see her. I never said that, and you keep saying it.” 

“So, you  _ do _ want to see her?” 

“Yes. No… It’s complicated. I  _ do _ feel like I’d be cheating on Petra, but it’s not just that.” 

“What else is it?” Hanji encourages. 

“I…” Levi shakes his head, then says through gritted teeth, “I’m nervous.” 

“Why are you nervous?” Hanji asks in an almost-whisper, hanging on every unusually-open word. 

“I… like her.” 

Hanji shouts, “Woah!” and throws her hands up in surprise, as Mikasa wolf whistles. An ‘I like her’ coming from Levi is the equivalent of a dramatic reading of a love note coming from anyone else.

“Shut the  _ fuck _ up,” Levi barks lowly. “Help me.” 

“Help you?” Hanji echoes, her voice drenched with excitement. “I’ve been waiting my entire life for you to say that. Okay, step one: reply to the text. She sent it over an hour ago so she’s probably flipping her shit right now.” 

“Okay, give me my phone. What do I say?” 

Hanji returns his phone and says, “You want to see her, right? So, you say yes.” 

Levi looks up at Hanji. “Say ‘Yes.’?”

“Yes! Say yes.” 

“Okay.” Levi types out a quick text and hits send. “Okay, sent it.” 

“Wait, that was really fast. What did you say?” 

“I said, “Yes.’”

“I didn’t mean literally just type the word ‘yes’!” Hanji confiscates his phone as Mikasa stifles a giggle. “You unbelievable, antisocial troll. I’m taking over. Okay, what would you want to do for a first date?” 

Levi sighs and runs his hands through his unkempt, jet-black hair. “I don’t know. Dinner?”

“Okay, good. Where do you want to take her?” 

Levi pauses to think. “Olive Garden.” 

“What? No. Not Olive Garden.” 

“What’s wrong with the Olive Garden? It’s nice.” 

“No. How about that new Asian fusion place down the road?”

He sighs sharply. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Okay. What’s the soonest evening that you’re free?” 

“Tonight.” 

“No. How about tomorrow? Tomorrow is Saturday.” 

Levi is growing increasingly exasperated with the micromanagement. “Yes, fine. I’m free tomorrow too.” 

“Okay, good. Hang on…” Hanji quickly types out a text and then pointedly hits send. “Alright, I just told her ‘Let’s go to dinner. There’s a new Asian fusion place on Route One called Sina Fusion. Meet there tomorrow at 8?’ This is how a normal human asks out a girl over text. Take notes,” she gloats as she hands Levi’s phone back to him.

“Whatever,” he mutters, scowling. 

“You’re welcome,” Hanji replies, accepting what she knows is veiled praise. 

“That was pretty impressive,” Mikasa says. 

“Why, thank you, dear. I’d be happy to do the same for you, anytime.” 

“Wait a second,” Mikasa cuts in, suddenly looking a bit apprehensive. “How old is she?” 

Hanji and Levi look at each other with furrowed brows. “I’m not exactly sure,” Levi says. “She’s never mentioned. She’s a student, though.” 

“I know she knows Eren,” Mikasa adds. “Eren’s 21. Is (y/n) 21? That’s a little young for you, dude.” 

“No, she seems older than that,” Levi supposes. “She’s a student, but maybe she’s a grad student? She looks 24, 25. I’m 31; that’s not that much older.” 

Mikasa looks dubious, but Hanji nods. “Yeah. You guys are both adults. So what if she’s a little younger than you? It’s not a big deal. Plus, if Eren’s younger than her, that would explain why she was so extremely bent out of shape that he cancelled on her. That would have to be pretty embarrassing.” Just then, Levi’s phone pings. “Is that her?” Hanji asks, and Levi nods. “What an eager beaver she is. What’d she say?” 

“She said, ‘that sounds good, see you then’.” 

“Awesome! Hey, do you want any more help? I could-” 

“I’m not letting you choose my outfit, four-eyes.” 

“Aw, c’mon, please?” 

But before Levi has the chance to defend himself, a customer walks through the door, and the conversation vanishes into thin air. As Mikasa greets the customer, Levi immediately retreats back to the side room. 


	9. Does Your Mother Know That You're Out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy sunday! i have a very nice chap for you this week. also, now that i'm editing faster, i'm getting impatient to publish, so the next chapter is going to come on wednesday, and then another one will come on sunday as usual. so two chapters in a week instead of one. this story might also end up being longer than i originally intended. i'm thinking of new plot points that i think would be fun to explore, but it would more than double the length of the story and would also shift from happy fluff into some angst before i bring it back. i'll let y'all know when i decide. happy reading!

You slam the door behind you. “ _ SASHAAAAAAA~!” _

You hear Sasha’s bedroom door thrust open with such force that it hits the wall, followed by the sound of thundering footsteps. She appears in the hallway wearing basketball shorts (probably Connie’s) and a maroon tank top. She’s armed with a can of hairspray, which she’s holding out in front of her like it’s pepper spray while hers eyes dart around, looking for predators. “What?” she barks. “What’s the problem? Is somebody after you?” 

You’re so flabbergasted by this reaction that you forget that you’re excited. “What? No. Nobody’s after me. Put the hairspray down.”

Sasha obeys, but slowly, like she doesn’t totally trust that there’s not mischief afoot. “Well, what, then? What’s the problem?” 

“There’s no problem.” You grin from ear to ear. “Levi responded to my text.” 

“Oh!” Sasha crosses to you and puts the can of hairspray down on the kitchen table. “What’d he say?” 

You pull out your cell phone to read the text verbatim: “He said, ‘Yes.’ And then he said, ‘Let’s go to dinner. There’s a new Asian fusion place on Route One called Sina Fusion. Meet there tomorrow at 8?’” 

“Oh my gosh! Oh, wow. What did you say?” 

“I said, ‘that sounds good, see you then’. That’s good, right?” 

“Yes!” Sasha overflows with excitement and takes both your hands in hers. “This is so exciting! You have a date with a hot boy!” 

For a few seconds, you jump up and down and squeal like little girls. Suddenly, Connie emerges from Sasha’s bedroom, and says from across the apartment, “That’s really great, (y/n). Congrats.” He’s not wearing a shirt, and down below it’s just boxer shorts. 

You stop jumping to say, “Oh, thanks, Connie, I didn’t know you were here…” 

“Yeah, he got here half an hour ago.” Sasha turns to him to call across the apartment, “Maybe you should make yourself decent, topless.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Connie looks down, seeming to have forgotten that he isn’t hardly wearing any clothes, and then retreats back into the bedroom. 

Suddenly, the smile fades from your face and you raise a hand to your forehead. Sasha sees this and says, “Oh, I’m sorry about that. He just forgets where he is sometimes.” 

“No, it’s not that… Oh my god, I’m so nervous all of the sudden,” you say, your voice suddenly weakening. 

“Oh, relax!” Sasha squeezes your shoulder. “Don’t worry about a  _ damn _ thing. Tomorrow, we’ll go into your bedroom at a minimum of two hours before you have to leave. We’ll pick out your outfit, and I can do your hair while you do your makeup. Does that sound good?” 

You nod. “Yeah, that sounds perfect. Thank you, Sasha.” 

~~~

The following evening, at around 7:30, Levi is meticulously styling his hair in a mirror with a comb in his right hand. His hair is parted on the right; he sweeps his bangs to the side. He runs the comb through his hair again, parts his hair on the left this time, and sweeps his bangs to the other side. He squints at his reflection in the mirror, wets his hand from the faucet in front of him, and runs his hand through his hair. He combs his hair back, along with the bangs, à la Grease. He sighs and shakes his head vigorously, letting his hair fall where it pleases. His phone rings from there on the sink counter, and he answers it, putting it on speaker. “What do you want, Hanji?” 

“Hi, hi. I just wanted to see how you’re doing getting ready for your date,” she says, placing special emphasis on the last word. 

Levi puts down the comb and tousles his damp hair with his hand instead. “I’m fine, Hanji. I’m a grown-ass man. I can get ready for a fucking date by myself.” 

“Of course you can! What are you wearing?” 

“Jeans, button-up, suit jacket.” 

“Uh-huh. Colors?” 

Levi sighs deeply. “ _ Black _ jeans,  _ white _ button-up,  _ black _ suit jacket.” 

“Shoes?” 

“Oxfords.” 

“Okay. Now, the shirt, how many buttons are you leaving undone?” 

“Um… Two, if you include the top one at the collar.” 

“Better undo one more. Honestly, I’d feel better if you were wearing nicer pants than jeans, but I know that with you that’s just an absurd pipe dream. But you’re not wearing the distressed jeans with the rips in the knees, are you? You’re wearing nice ones with a slim fit?” 

“Of course; I’m not an animal,” he says, leaving the bathroom to change out of the distressed jeans and into better ones. “You know, you didn’t do any of this when I started going out with Petra.” 

“Yeah, and look how well  _ that _ turned out. Besides, Farlan’s not there; I feel responsible for you. When’re he and Isabel coming back, again?” 

“Tomorrow. I have to pick him up at the airport in the evening.” 

“Okay, now, look: if you get into trouble and you need to get out of there, just text me ‘911’ and I’ll call you saying that there’s some kind of work emergency so you have a reason to leave. And don’t forget pepper spray.” 

“Um, what?” 

“What? ...Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry, I always say that to my girlfriends when they’re about to go on a date. Habit.” 

Levi grunts, returning to the bathroom to finish his hair. 

“What’re you doing now?” 

“Fixing my fucking hair,” he says, exasperated. “For real, four-eyes, you’re suffocating me.” 

“Oh, you and your precious hair. I have more questions. Does all your jewelry match right now?” 

“As much as it can.” 

“Okay. And what about cologne? Are you wearing cologne?” 

“Yes…” 

“Not too much though, right? Sometimes less is more. And you’re not wearing one that clashes with your deodorant, right? You do that sometimes, you know. Also, aftershave. Aftershave, and you should moisturize your hands and your elbows, and-” 

“Seriously, woman, why don’t you just shove your hand up my ass and control me like I’m a puppet?” 

“Levi, if I thought it would help, I would give you an earpiece and relay instructions to you from a nearby table. I would be wearing a disguise, and-”

As she talks, Levi decides he’s satisfied with his hair, and cuts her off to say, “Hanji, I gotta go. I want to get there before she does.” 

“Okay, good luck, sweetie! Just be yourself, okay? Actually, try to be your  _ most pleasant  _ self. And you should pick up the check; it’s chivalrous. It’s just little things like that, you know? I always find that whenever I-”

Levi hangs up the phone. He grabs his keys and his wallet from on top of his bed as he heads through the bedroom. As he’s about to leave, he pauses in front of the full-length mirror he keeps a few feet from the door to examine his appearance. He adjusts his jacket, and then poses nonchalantly, pursing his lips.  _ It is what it is _ , he thinks to himself, and with this, walks out the door. 

~~~

At 8:03, Sasha drops you off in front of Sina Fusion. As you exit the car and approach the restaurant, you can feel that your outfit is giving you a powerful zip of confidence. It’s a raspberry-colored dress with a gathered skirt line just above your knees. You weren’t sure how nice you were supposed to dress, so you’re off-setting black tights and a gold necklace with black combat boots and a letterman jacket with gold lining. If the restaurant is nicer than you expected, the outfit could be changed from a 6 to a 9 on the fanciness scale by taking off the jacket. You’ve given yourself a simple makeup look, and were going to let Sasha put your hair in a fun updo, but you’re having an unusually good hair day, so you’d decided to leave it down. 

After Sasha’s car pulls away, you take a moment outside of the restaurant to center yourself and take in your surroundings. You’re just a few blocks down Route One, but it’s a different world here: after just a few minutes of driving, the bustling, mismatched style of the hub you’re used to has become a quaint avenue with an atmosphere rivaling that of a restored historic town. And Sina Fusion certainly fits into that aesthetic-- the outdoor seating area, though empty due to the cold weather, is shielded by an overhang strung with fairy lights, mimicking the stars glowing in the night sky above you. Though you haven’t entered yet, you feel welcomed by the soft lighting of the interior shining through the transparent double-doors. You focus on that light and allow a beautiful wave of calm to wash over you as you walk into the restaurant. 

You’re immediately greeted by the low humming of conversation and muzak in the restaurant, under the bustling of waiters and waitresses flitting about the main room. It’s a busy night, it seems-- not too off-brand for a Saturday. You’re surprised you’ve not yet heard of this place, if it’s this popular. Tentatively, you approach the hostess booth with a slight smile on your lips. You clear your throat and the hostess looks up at you to say, “Hi there, welcome to Sina Fusion, do you have a reservation?” 

You nod. “I think so. I’m actually supposed to be meeting someone here at 8 pm. I assume he got a reservation, but I don’t actually know-” 

“Uh-huh. Are you (y/n)?” 

You smile and blush slightly, intimidated by interacting with a restaurant employee all by yourself. “Yes, that’s me.” 

The hostess smiles tightly. “Right, then. Come with me…”

You follow the hostess as she weaves expertly through the maze of tables and constant movement of wait staff carrying delicious-smelling food. You’re totally lost in trying to keep up with her, and you don’t even notice where you’re going until she stops, and you land at a table for two situated along the wall. There in front of you is Levi, who has instinctively stood up at your arrival, and is adjusting his suit jacket. You’re pretty floored by how different he seems, cleaned up like this: a white button-up with several buttons left open at the top to reveal his smooth, pale skin littered with tattoos and marked with a defined collarbone, a black suit jacket with crisp lines that shift into a neatly folded collar around his neck, hair looking like it was meticulously styled to look haphazardly windswept. You remind yourself not to be intimidated, though, when you notice that, as always, he’s got those black jeans. But, then you forget again that you shouldn’t be nervous when you finally meet his eyes and see the faint reflective shimmer of the gray that resides there, and the soft, comfortable glow of his gently smiling face. “Hey. Glad you made it,” he says. 

You feel quite dumb as you simply reply, “Uh-huh,” in a higher-pitched tone that you usually speak with. 

The hostess addresses the two of you as you sit down: “Your server will be right with you. Have a great night, you two.” Then, she walks away with a sense of purpose, leaving you alone. 

You both sigh awkwardly as you glance at each other once. Trying to break the tension, Levi says, “Um, you look really pretty, (y/n).” 

You smile and blush, but you don’t break eye contact as you say, “Aw, thanks, so do you.” The smile turns into a half-grimace as you shake your head slightly and look away. 

Levi just chuckles and says, “Well, thank you. I tried,” and then, once again trying to diffuse the tension, “So, have you ever been here before?” 

“Oh, no, I haven’t. I’ll probably need some help deciding what to get, I guess.” You open the menu in front of you. 

“Oh, well I haven’t been here either. Hanji recommended it, so…” 

“Oh.” You try to lose yourself in looking over the menu. It’s been maybe forty-five seconds and you’re already  _ so done _ with the first-date awkwardness. Without thinking, you put the menu back down and say, “This is weird. I feel weird.” 

“ _ So _ weird,” Levi agrees emphatically. “I hate restaurants. Ones like this, I mean, where you don’t know which fork you’re supposed to kill yourself with.” 

You laugh. “Oh, no, I like restaurants. I like them better, though, if I’ve been to them before and I know the menu, ‘cause then I can just chill out. But even so, I like the atmosphere of everyone being nicely dressed and polite with each other. It’s impossible to be nicely dressed and polite all the time, but it’s just fine for no more than an hour and a half once a week.” 

“See, this is why I wanted to go to the Olive Garden. But  _ no,  _ that’s not  _ special _ enough.”

You tilt your head and smile. “What are you talking about?” 

He sighs. “I wanted to take you to the Olive Garden, but Hanji said that no, we should go here instead.”

You smile wider. “Well, I like Olive Garden okay. I mean, when you’re there, you’re family, right?” You say, mostly kidding. 

“Yes. Exactly,” Levi says, completely serious. 

You laugh, not worried that you might offend him. Just then, a waitress approaches in a blond undercut and an apron. “Hey, you guys, welcome to Sina Fusion. My name’s Nanaba, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you guys off with something to drink?” 

You’re about to say that water’s fine for you, but Levi answers first, with: “I’ll have a glass of Merlot, and…” he looks at you. “What do you want? White or red?” 

“Um… I like rosé?” 

“A white Zinfandel for her, then, and two waters.” 

“Alright then. And are you guys ready to order, or do we need another minute?” 

“Another minute,” Levi answers. 

“Okay, I’ll be back with your drinks in a few.” 

The waitress vanishes, and you’re left with Levi and the growing feeling that you’re being wined and dined, literally. “Wow, I guess you know your wine, huh?” 

“Oh, hardly,” Levi answers. “I know some common names, and I know that it’s customary to have a glass of wine with a nice dinner. Sorry, were you not planning on drinking?” 

“Oh, no, not at all. I never turn down a glass of wine, I was just thinking I didn’t want to pick that up in the check.” 

“Why would you be picking that up in the check?” 

You furrow your brows and decide to snark: “Well, usually, restaurants demand money in exchange for fine wine and cuisine.” 

“Yeah, I know that, brat. What made you think that you were paying for your own food tonight?” 

“Oh, um… I don’t know, I guess I just assumed we would split the check.” 

“Hm…” Levi purses his lips in mock contemplation. “I’m pretty sure I’m paying for you.” 

“Heh. Okay, then. You sure?” 

“Positive. What the fuck kind of date would this be if I didn’t pay for your meal?” 

You blush at the mention of the word ‘date.’ You’re starting to feel like a real dating virgin over here. It’s not that you haven’t been on dates, it’s just that… well, it’s been a while. And usually, in the past when you’ve gone on dates, you haven’t liked the person half as much as you already like Levi. Sitting across from him, you can feel yourself being pulled in like a magnet, and you’re keenly aware of the sweet, sultry smell of cologne, which you have difficulty describing to yourself other than with the thought,  _ There’s an attractive man sitting over there. _ It’s something like beach wood, and spearmint, and Bourbon whiskey, and… 

“Alright, how are we doing over here?” The waitress has returned and is placing two glasses of wine there on the table. “Are we ready to order?” 

You start to say, “Oh, um… we haven’t-” 

“What would you recommend, Nanaba?” Levi asks. 

The waitress lights up like she’s been waiting all night for someone to ask her that. “Well, I’m a total sucker for our Macadamia nut-crusted Mahi-Mahi. If you’re not feeling fish, though, our filet mignon is to die for. And if you’re looking for an appetizer or something along those lines, I would definitely recommend either the lobster bisque or the lobster potstickers. I’m a huge lobster girl, though.” 

“I’ll take the fish,” Levi says, folding the menu and handing it to the waitress. “And the bisque.” 

You think that those choices sound expensive, but decide to defer to Levi’s judgement. “Fish for me, too, and the potstickers, please.” 

Nanaba takes the menus and says, “Alright, you guys; excellent choices. I’ll be back with the bisque and the potstickers in a jiffy.” 

“Well, that was easy,” you say after the waitress had left. 

“Wait staff always loves it when you ask for their opinion,” Levi says. “Most food service workers do, or at least the ones that don’t work in fast food. It’s like they’re completely shocked that anyone cares what they have to say.” 

“Oh, I know!” you agree emphatically. “I feel the same way. I work at a smoothie bowl place, and I always love it when people ask me what I think they should get.” Getting comfortable, you decide to take off your jacket, finally, and let it hang over the back of your chair. 

“Yeah? What’s the place called?” You notice Levi’s eyes dart around your shoulders and chest as he replies, and you feel your ears heat up a bit. Not that you’re surprised-- the dress is fairly low-cut, with ruffles around the bust. You look damn good, and you know it. 

“It’s called Rose Bowls. It’s been open for a few years, but I just started working there last semester.” 

“And how do you like it there?” 

“Ah… It’s okay. It’s nice to get free smoothie bowls at the end of each shift. Plus, now that I’m a junior, it’s good to be able to do homework in the back when things are slow. My classes are starting to get pretty intense and specific now.” 

“Wait, wait.” Levi holds a hand up and blinks slowly. “Junior?” 

You’re confused and slightly worried. “Yeah. As in, a junior in college.” 

Levi sighs deeply and folds his hands in front of his forehead. “Uh-huh.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

“ _ What? _ ” 

“Nothing, it’s just… I thought you were older than that.” 

“I’m 21. How old did you think I was?” 

“Oh, 24, 25.” 

“Oh. Huh. Well, that makes sense, I guess. I know I tend to assume everyone’s around my age too.” 

“What?” 

“What?” you repeat.

“How old do you think  _ I _ am?” 

“I thought around there, maybe 25, 26.” 

Levi shakes his head and groans softly. “31.” 

You feel something visceral inside of you seize up. “Oh. Huh… Well, you have really youthful skin.” 

“Thank you.” 

For at least half a minute, silence. Then, you just sigh and decide to not make it a big deal. You feel the knot in your belly release. “So, ten years, huh?” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” Levi sighs back at you and then meets your eyes, a look of total resignation on his face. “I get it if you want to leave. I mean, this is probably weird for you-” 

“I don’t want to leave,” you cut him off. “It felt weird for just a second, but not now anymore.” 

“Really?” Levi looks exceedingly surprised. “I mean, here I am, I’m ten years older than you, covered in tattoos and piercings, and you don’t feel weird? I mean, you’re not… scared of me?” 

You shake your head emphatically. “It doesn’t bother me in the slightest.” You decide to further illustrate your point. You grab onto the bottom of your jacket hung on your chair and root around in one of the pockets, announcing each item as you take it out and place it on the table in front of you. “Pepper spray. Switchblade. Tiny flashlight. Tiny whistle.” 

Levi looks disconcertingly at the assortment of items. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.” 

“It’s not because of you, dude. It’s because it’s a first date; it’s a habit. I had the pepper spray and the flashlight in my skirt pocket the night I was supposed to meet Eren outside of the Tattooery.” 

“Comparison with Eren… Again, not making me feel better.” 

You exhale sharply. “Levi, you’re sapping my strength. I’m not fucking scared of you. I’m not scared of much, really. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re the one that said I should be giving him the benefit of the doubt. If you feel weird, though-- if  _ you _ want to leave-- that’s fine by me.” You look right into his eyes. 

He returns the look with equal strength. “I don’t want to leave.” 

You just nod for a moment, then say, “Well, then,” you pick up your wine glass and take a sip. “Here we are.” 

The waitress drops off your appetizers. As you bite into a potsticker, Levi asks, “So, what’re you studying?” 

You swallow. “I’m a bio major with a focus in genetic counseling.” 

“Hm. Sounds fancy.” 

“Eh, not really. I declared biology as soon as I got here, and then I took one Intro to Genetic Counseling class and thought, ‘Hey, I could probably do this for the rest of my life without wanting to kill myself.’ Now, here we are.” 

“Woman in STEM, huh? Sounds like my sister.” 

“You have a sister?” 

“Yeah, Isabel. She went to school for psychology, but she didn’t go into grad school, so now, of course, she does something completely unrelated.” 

You shake your head. “Psychology isn’t STEM.” 

Levi cocks his head. “It’s a science, though.” 

“It’s a  _ social _ science. And the fact remains that universities don’t technically qualify it as a STEM major.” 

Levi looks distracted for a moment, but then snaps back into focus. “Um… Well, she’d probably be pretty mad if she heard you say that.” 

“I bet. Psych majors never want to admit that their major’s a total joke. I mean, it’s one thing if they’re doing psych with something else, like biology or political science, but for an undergrad degree, psychology is a whole lot of nothing. For the job game, you might as well not have gone to university at all.” 

“Ah…” Levi’s head twitches slightly, the same bothered, distracted look returning for a moment. “Well, she seems to be doing okay, now. Honestly, I was worried, too, but now she’s got some sort of office job that seems to pay her well.” 

You try to brush off Levi’s weird, constantly changing disposition that’s emerged in the past few minutes. “Well, that’s good. Where did she go for school?” 

“She, um…” Levi’s nostrils flare suddenly. “Fuck. I just-” he pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket. “I never take out the damn phone when I’m with someone, but this fucking thing won’t stop fucking buzzing, and it’s driving me fucking crazy…” 

You chuckle and take another long sip of wine as Levi looks at his phone. He sighs and points to the phone, as he looks at you to say, “I need to…” 

“You’re fine.” You wave your hand and take another bite of potsticker. 

Levi doesn’t step away to take the call, like you thought he would, but stays at the table as he answers the phone. “What do you want, Farlan? I’m in the middle of something.” You’re strangely honored to be considered the something that Levi is in the middle of. “What? What’re you talking about…” Levi says into the phone, brows furrowing. “What do you mean? You’re coming back tomorrow… Yes, tomorrow, the 17th… Oh,  _ today’s _ the- fuck… Shit, Farlan. That’s my bad.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him in silent question. 

“Hang on, Farlan, just a sec.” Levi puts his hand to phone and says to you, “I thought my roommate was flying in tomorrow, but he’s here tonight. I got the day mixed up. He’s at the airport now. I was supposed to pick him up.” 

The playful smile fades from your face. “Oh. Well, if you have to go, it’s totally fine. I don’t mind.” 

Levi’s eyes narrow at you, not believing you for a second. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I can tell him to take a cab, I guess…” 

He looks pretty stressed, so you say, “No, really, it’s okay. I’m not as important as your roommate; really, I’m not. You should go.” 

Levi sighs and bites his bottom lip in thought as he holds your gaze. Then, he shrugs and says, “Maybe you could tag along? I could drop them off at home and then you and I could go somewhere else.” 

“Them?” you ask, since you’d thought there was only the roommate at the airport. 

“Yeah, my sister’s with him.” He raises his eyebrows. “What do you think?” 

“Um…” you take a quick look around you and tap your hands on your lap as you take a moment to think. “You know what, okay! Yeah, that sounds good. It’s like a little adventure.” 

Levi nods at you and takes his hand off of the phone mic. “Farlan? Yeah, no, I’m coming; I’m on my way. Don’t order a cab… Uh, like, thirty minutes, I think, depending on traffic… Yeah, just hang tight, I’ll be right there… Okay. Bye.” Levi hangs up the phone and puts it back in his pocket, then clasps his hands. “You ready?” 

You recognize that gesture from when he asked you if you were ready to get your piercing the first time. You smile at the memory and say, “Yeah, I’m ready. Wait, don’t we have to pay, still? I mean, we barely ate, but-” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I got it.” Levi stands up and roots a wallet out from his pocket. “Ten, twenty, thirty… Okay, I think that should do it. I’ll tell the hostess to cancel the entrees on our way out.” 

“Okay.” You stand up to put on your jacket, and follow Levi out of the restaurant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let it be said here and now that i am a psych major with no double. i make these jokes about psych majors because i think they're hilarious. also what the reader says is not true, it's just funny. of COURSE it's better to get an undergrad in psych than no degree at all. and it DOES help in the job game. i just couldn't resist. <3 look for the new chapter this wednesday! ALSO: i wrote a lil christmas one-shot about eren just for fun. it's not reader insert, but it's based on the structure of a christmas carol and it was pretty fun to write. feel free to check it out in my works if you're still in the holiday spirit! love y'all <3<3<3


	10. Change of Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy wednesday, featuring the promised bonus chapter!! get ready to receive some of levi's backstory lol. hope y'all like it!

When you and Levi arrive at the airport, he parks the car and then you both walk into the airport to look for Farlan, Levi’s roommate, and Isabel, Levi’s sister, around baggage claim. The airport is bustling, filled with families, couples, and stuffy-looking businessmen all dragging their luggage around the terminal at high speeds. You’ve been to the airport a few times before, but it feels strangely chaotic to you now that you aren’t a traveler. Hell, you even walked in through the exit door. This whole thing feels backwards. 

You hear a sharp cry over the humdrum murmuring of the huge room. “Leviiiiiii~!” Before you know it, the man standing next to you has been tackled, and though he doesn’t fall over, he sure does stumble back a few feet. 

“Isabel, for the love of fuck. You can’t act like this in an airport. You’ll get detained.” 

Isabel dismounts from clinging to Levi like a koala to say, “I don’t care! I’m just happy to see my big bro!” 

Levi glances away bashfully and frowns. “Sorry I’m late.” 

“Oh, that’s fine. Besides, it seems like you had a pretty good excuse.” She turns her gaze to you. “Hi, I’m Isabel, Levi’s sister. Who are you?” 

Not ‘what’s your name,’ but ‘who are you.’ Something about her enthusiasm and bright eyes feels familiar to you, but you can’t quite place it. “I’m (y/n). I was just at dinner with Levi.” 

“Ooooooo, okay! It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Where’s Farlan?” Levi asks gruffly. 

“Huh? Oh, he was here a second ago…” She looks around herself like she might find that she’d accidentally dropped him on the ground. Then, from out of the crowd comes a tall, fairly thin blonde guy, jogging and towing a rolling suitcase behind him. 

“I look away from her for one second, and she takes off,” he says breathily to no one in particular. Then, to Levi: “Well, look who decided to show up.” 

Though Farlan had said it good-naturedly, Levi decides to act offended. “I came as soon as you called me.” 

“I know, I know.” Farlan glances at you and then asks Levi, “And who might this be?” 

Isabel answers for Levi. “This is (y/n) and she and big bro were just out to dinner.” 

“Oh, okay.” Farlan looks significantly more curious than he’s willing to say out loud at this point, and you’re feeling the full weight of all of the attention you’re getting. 

“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Levi says, turning to lead the pack out of the airport and into the parking lot. Once you’re back to the car, you take shotgun and Isabel and Farlan sit in the back. You’re realizing that this night is the first time you’ll be driven in Levi’s car and actually  _ remember.  _ “So, how was the trip?” Levi asks the backseat passengers; somewhat reluctantly, it seems, but you’re not sure why. 

“It was really nice!” Isabel responds enthusiastically. “You should really think about coming along next time.” 

Levi merely grunts in reply, and you ask, “Where were you guys visiting?” 

“We were in Philly with my parents,” Isabel answers. 

You look quizzically at Isabel through the backseat-view mirror. “Oh, your parents? Wait, why wouldn’t Lev-” 

“Where did you guys go to dinner?” Isabel cuts you off. 

You figure she didn’t mean to cut you off, and reply, “Oh, some new place called Sina Fusion. It was both of our first times there.” 

“If you can call it that,” Levi snarks. “I didn’t even get to finish my soup.” 

You look sideways at him. You’re a little confused at his sudden change in demeanor, when he’d been so stressed about forgetting to pick them up when you were in the restaurant and on the way here. You try to keep the conversation going. “So, Farlan, you and Levi are roommates?” 

“Yep! Been living together almost five years, now.” 

You nod. “Very cool, very cool.” 

“Yeah, living with Levi definitely makes me look cooler than I am.” 

You see Levi glance amusedly at Farlan in the mirror as Isabel swats Farlan’s arm. “Hey, don’t say that! You’re super cool, dude.” 

Farlan looks away from Isabel sheepishly. You’re having a lot of trouble placing what their exact relationship is. 

The rest of the car ride passes with fun, light-hearted chatter. You’re really enjoying getting to know these people, and you’re exceedingly interested by how differently Levi acts with different categories of people. You figure that since he’s so close with these two, he’s probably clamming up like that mostly because you’re there to bear witness. 

When you reach what you assume is the apartment complex that Farlan and Levi live in, Levi says, “Alright, Farlan. I can help you carry your stuff up if you want, and then I’ll take Isabel to her place.” 

Isabel looks aghast. “What? No, I wanna keep hanging out.” 

“Seriously?” Levi quips. “You’ve been travelling all day, Isabel. Aren’t you tired?” 

“Nope!” she chirps, despite the fact that her bright eyes are accented with obvious dark circles, and her auburn pigtails are in a state of total disrepair. “I wanna keep hanging out,” she reiterates. “Can we all go up to your guys’ apartment? Pleeeeease?” 

“Ah…” Levi subtly rolls his eyes and then looks at you. You grin at him to indicate that you’re game for whatever. He rolls his eyes again; not at you, you figure. “Fine.” 

“Yippee!” Isabel squeals. 

You’re feeling very swept along, like you’re water tubing down a fast river, and before you know it, you’ve been whisked up to Levi and Farlan’s apartment. It’s quite spacious-- from where you’re standing at the entrance, you can see a huge kitchen, and an even bigger living room with a big, new-looking sectional couch and a few smaller chairs and a loveseat. You can’t see them right now, but you assume that there are at least two bedrooms and a bathroom that are of equal grandeur. Though the apartment smells faintly of cigarette smoke, it is immaculately neat, and smells immaculately clean as well. It reminds you of how the little piercing nook smelled at the Tattooery, but without the faint twinge of iodine. 

As Farlan and Levi lug the luggage into the apartment, Isabel whisks you along and asks, “You wanna drink?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you respond somewhat meekly, feeling a bit like an imposter. Everyone else knows this apartment and each other like the back of their hand, and you simply know next to nothing. Despite this, you’re feeling thoroughly charmed by Isabel’s vibrant and fun-loving nature. And she  _ does _ remind you of someone…  _ Who does she remind me of? Sasha? No… _

“Screwdriver,” Isabel announces, handing you a glass full of bright orange drink. 

You take a sip. “Mm, nice.”

“I used to bartend, you know,” Isabel notes. She takes her own drink in one hand and your non-drink-holding wrist in another, and sweeps you out of the kitchen and into the living room. She plops down onto the sofa, pulling you down with her simultaneously, which almost causes you to spill a bit of your drink. “So, you went on a date with my brother?” She sips her drink, her eyes boring into you, glinting with mischief. 

“Oh, um…” you start to say, but are cut off by a voice from across the apartment. 

“Alright, what’s going on in here?” Levi is approaching with Farlan behind him, most likely having settled Farlan’s stuff back into his bedroom. 

“I’m getting to know this nice girl you brought with you, big bro.” She turns to you. “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?” 

“(Y/n),” you answer. 

“(Y/n). Well, I think it might be nice to get to know each other better.” 

“Okay,” you submit, totally happy to do whatever these people wanted you to do. Between the glass of wine earlier and the few sips of screwdriver you’ve taken, you feel completely at ease. 

“Actually,” Levi says, “I was thinking that it might be time to get some dinner. For real, this time.” He looks at you, expecting you to stand. 

Before you can, though, Isabel is saying, “Oh, great idea! Levi, you should pick up some food for us.” 

“Oh, um, I kind of just meant-” 

“Yes. Pick up some booze too-- you guys have almost nothing. And you’ll need some help carrying all that. Farlan, why don’t you go with him?” 

“Sure!” Farlan chirps, and looks at Levi expectantly. 

Levi looks at you, and you shrug, giving him the O-K. He sighs, and says, “Alright, Farlan, let’s go.” 

“Be back soon! I want fried chicken!” Isabel calls after the boys as they leave. You chuckle at her. Even though you don’t know her hardly at all, and you’re not exactly one for going out and looking for new friends, you’re pretty content to chat with Isabel for however long she wants to keep talking to you. Besides, she seems very inquisitive, and you have a strong feeling that she’s just chomping at the bit to tell you any story or fun fact about Levi that she can think of, which certainly sounds like a good time to you. As if reading your thoughts, after the door closes, she asks, “So, when did you meet my brother?” 

“Oh, um, about a month ago.” She nods enthusiastically, holding eye contact with you as she sips her drink. She expects you to elaborate. “A little over a month ago, actually, I think. I went in to get a cartilage piercing. Then, a little over a week ago, I went back in to get another one, and then a couple nights ago I ran into him at a bar down the street from where he works.” 

“Oh! Oh-oh-oh! I know who you are!” Isabel lightly swats your arm excitedly. “Yeah, you were supposed to meet some guy, and then he stood you up. And Levi saw you at a bar that same night.” 

You give her a sort of embarrassed smile, looking away.  _ Of course she knows all that. She’s his sister, for crying out loud. They’re obviously close. I’m sure they tell each other everything.  _

Isabel reads your mind again. “Yeah, big bro already told me all about you. Well, not  _ all _ , just the parts that he was agonizing over.”

“Agonizing?” 

Isabel waves her hand. “Oh, forget that. Now, you texted him first, right?” 

“Yes.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “It was a moment of uncharacteristic bravery.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short, girl! It was nice, and I think he really liked it.” 

“Really? You think so?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Isabel quickly downs the rest of her drink and lets out a satisfied breath, leaning back into the sofa. “Whew. I needed that. Stressful trip.” 

You tilt your head. “I thought you said it was good?” 

She shrugs. “Yeah, it was. Just tough covering for Levi.” 

“Hm.” You take the last sip of your drink, wondering whether you should inquire as to the reason for that. 

“You want another drink, (y/n)?” 

“Oh, yeah, totally.” 

Isabel quickly darts to the kitchen to make drinks and back again. In that time, you decide that you would indeed ask, but gently, and that you wouldn’t pry. “Why did you need to cover for Levi?” 

“Well, he didn’t wanna go. He doesn’t like my mom much, and then he doesn’t get along with our dad either.” 

“ _ Your  _ mom? Not his, too?” 

Isabel shakes her head, swallowing another big gulp of screwdriver. “I’m just his half-sister. Same dad, different moms.” 

“Oh.” You sip your drink, deciding not to ask about Levi’s mom. You don’t want to overstep your boundaries, no matter how fascinated you are by each additional detail you receive of Levi’s life. 

“You can ask, if you want to,” Isabel chuckles, leaning back into the couch and putting her feet up on the coffee table in front of it. “Anything you want.” 

You laugh shortly through your nose. “I mean, I don’t wanna pry.” 

“I’ll tell you if you’re prying, but I don’t think you will be.” 

You pucker your lips to the side. You don’t really understand why Isabel is deciding to be an open book about Levi’s life for you, but you’re just tipsy enough to brush past it without much thought. “I was just wondering… What about Levi’s mom?” 

Isabel nods. She knew that was what you were going to ask. “She passed when he was thirteen and I was eight.” 

“Oh, God. That’s awful.” 

“Yeah, it was.” She takes another drink. 

You keep digging. “So, your dad was already with your mom by then?” 

“Mm-hm.” Isabel looks at you like she’s making some kind of broad judgement about you, and then continues: “Our dad walked out on Levi’s mom as soon as she told him she was pregnant. He puttered around Pennsylvania for quite a while after that, not contacting them, and after a few years, he met my mom. And then, a year later, there I was. Sometime after that, he had this change of heart-- our dad, I mean. I always thought it was because of me, but I’m still not sure. He decided he wanted to be in his son’s life, I guess. So, technically, I didn’t know Levi for the first couple years of my life, but pretty much as long as I can remember. He’d come to stay with us every couple of weekends, and very occasionally my parents would let me visit him at his mom’s place. So, then, when his mom died…” You’re hanging on every word, and anticipate the rest of the story with bated breath. “I knew him before, and I knew him after. That’s two different people, I say. After he came to live with us, he was pretty much just going through the motions until he turned eighteen and moved out. Honestly…” she chuckles with a wry smile. “I still kind of think he’s going through the motions. I mean, yeah, he’s got a job now, and he’s all stable and shit, but…” she shrugs, and looks at you to react. 

You’re not quite sure how to react, especially to the mysterious implications of the word ‘stable’. “Wow. Um… Wow.” Isabel’s story doesn’t sound rehearsed, like Levi’s ear care monologues did, but it does seem like she’s told the story before, or at least has run through it in a linear fashion in her head like that a whole lot. 

Isabel shakes her head. “Heh, sorry. I  _ am _ really tired, actually, and it’s kind of hard not to talk about him after seeing my parents.” 

“Yeah, no, I totally get that. I mean, I’ll listen to anything you have to say.” 

Isabel looks at you, a slight glint of mischief returning to her eye. “You will, won’t you?” 

You nod. 

“Hm.” Isabel downs the rest of her second drink. “So, what do you do, (y/n)?”

“Oh, I’m a student right now, and I have a part time job at a smoothie bowl place.” 

“Grad school, huh?” 

You sigh in resignation. “No, undergrad.”

Isabel looks surprised. “Oh. I thought big bro told me you were like, 24 or 25? Did you take a gap year or something?” 

“No. I’m 21. He thought I was older until tonight.” 

Isabel’s face opens up with shock. “Oh, my gosh! Big bro is robbing the cradle!” You groan and lean back onto the sofa. “I’m kidding. I mean, I don’t think it should matter, right? And you know he’s 31, now.” 

“Yeah, I know. And yeah, that’s what we thought too. It was actually sort of funny-- he was all convinced that I must be uncomfortable, and kept telling me that it was okay if I left. Said he didn’t  _ want _ me to leave, though.” 

“Hee-hee! That’s my brother for you. Total mensch, I swear.” 

You laugh and take another drink. “He thought that I must be scared of him or something. Not just because of the age thing, but because of the tattoos, I guess? Anyway, then-- and I  _ know _ this was a weird choice-- I, like, showed him that I had pepper spray and shit with me. Like, to prove I had no reason to be afraid of him. It was pepper spray, and a switchblade, and a flashlight. Stuff like that. But that didn’t seem to help. Like, he didn’t like that I felt the need to bring that stuff. So then I had to go into how it had nothing to do with him, and that it was just a precaution because it was a first date. I really had to convince him that I wasn’t scared.” 

Isabel giggles in a high pitch. “I bet he liked that more than he let on. Especially the switchblade.” 

“Yeah? Wait, what do you mean?” 

“Well, without going into too much detail… I think he probably liked that you were ready to defend yourself, and overpower anybody if you needed to. Specifically, that you were ready to overpower him. He has this thing-” 

You can feel the monologue drifting into uncertain territory, so you cut her off with, “Oh. Yeah, okay. That makes sense.” Isabel is staring at you intently. “What?” you ask. 

She shrugs, not taking her eyes off you. “I like you. You seem cool, and sort of fearless. You’re totally what he needs right now.” 

“What do you mean?” you say, smiling wide at the lovely compliment. 

“Oh, well, now, I don’t know that I should say…” 

You shake your head quickly. “Okay. Yeah, it’s no problem. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Eh, what the hell! This is fine; I’ll tell you.” Isabel breaks down as if you’d jumped on her and begged her to explain. “It’s just because he was getting so hung up on Petra.” 

You feel your blood chill slightly. “Who’s Petra?” 

“Oh, just this woman. She went out with Levi for a few months this year-- maybe five months, I think. I sort of liked her, actually.” 

“What happened?” 

Isabel winces, not looking at you. “She, uh… She sort of cheated on him.” 

You grimace. “Oh, no. That’s not good.” 

“No, it really wasn’t. That wasn’t really  _ it _ , though. That was sort of just icing on the cake. She was just kind of… I don’t know. Flighty? Like, she was really sweet on the surface, but she was just sort of fickle. Inconstant. It really stressed him out.” 

“Inconstant how?” 

“Like… I don’t know. She was just really reluctant to talk honestly about how she felt. Like, she would indicate that she felt strongly, but then she would never use words about it. And if he asked, she would just dodge and get all weird, and usually freeze him out for a few days. That’s what really didn’t work. Levi needs the words. He’s all action himself, I know, but words are what really seal the deal with him.” 

“Hm.” You make a mental note of that fact, tucking it away in your mind for future use. “Yikes, that really sucks about that girl, though.” 

“Yeah, I know. They had a couple months of good stuff, but then it was bad stuff for a few more months, and then… I think he only found out she was cheating on him a couple weeks ago.” 

This revelation is tickling something in the back of your head. Something… “When I ran into him at the bar-- the first time, when I was alone, not the second time when my friends were there-- he was sort of…” 

“What?” 

You gesture vaguely. “Off? I mean, I didn’t know him that well-- still don’t-- but there was this moment that he was kind of looking off and looking all weird, like he was trying to forget where he was. And I asked him what he was thinking about, and he said he was thinking about work, and I believed him at the time, but then when I ran into him again-- the second time-- he gave me the same kind of look when I asked him why he doesn’t like that Mikasa’s a romantic.” At this point, you’re less talking to Isabel, and more to yourself. “That first time was a couple weeks ago, I think. So then… maybe that’s what he was really thinking about?” 

Isabel smiles at you, remembering something. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Yeah, I remember he called me the day after, and that’s when he told me about Petra. I think that was the same conversation that he first mentioned you. Yeah, yeah, that totally could have been the same day that he found out about her.” 

“Oh, that makes so much sense,” you say breathily, your body relaxing into the couch as you finish connecting the dots in your head. “God, Isabel, thank you. I mean, Levi’s great, but he’s so confusing. I don’t know which fucking end is up.” 

Isabel laughs heartily. “He’s not, really. I mean, sure, he usually confuses people at first, but once you’ve known him for a while, he’s really fucking predictable. Once you’ve stuck around for a year or so, you’ll see what I’m talking about. His patterns are so basic.” 

You finish your drink as you think,  _ That phrasing she used implies that she expects me to still be around in a year.  _ You resolve to ponder the implications of that later. 

Just then, you hear the front door of the apartment open. “We’re back!” Farlan shouts from across the apartment. “We have chicken and booze! As requested!” 

“Woohoo!” Isabel gets up from the couch, but you decide to stay where you are and watch things unfold. Farlan and Levi haul bags into the kitchen and put them down on the counter, starting to unload them. Isabel flutters around them, apparently reinvigorated at the prospect of chicken. She’s pattering their arms and backs, and starts to tease Farlan about something. You’re not listening to what she’s saying, though, because you’re mostly just looking at Levi. The suit jacket has disappeared, and the sleeves of the white button-up have been rolled up to just above his elbows, revealing lithe, inked forearms. In his face, he looks unbelievably peaceful and contented, though he isn’t saying much at the moment. He senses you watching him, and looks up at you. You don’t shy away from his gaze, instead giving him a small smile from across the room. He returns it, tilting his head slightly in silent questioning. You shrug in response. 

The rest of the evening and early nighttime passes in warm, friendly banter, steadily flowing drinks, and a seemingly endless supply of KFC chicken and assorted sides. At one point, while you’re sitting on the couch with Levi, he very nonchalantly rests his arm on the back of the sofa behind you, as if that’s just the most comfortable place for it to go. At around eleven-thirty, Levi drives you home, leaving Isabel dozing off in a loveseat next to Farlan. “I hope that wasn’t too weird tonight,” Levi says after about three minutes of driving in comfortable silence. 

“It wasn’t.” You smile at him. “It was really great, actually. I had a good time.” You couldn’t look away from him right now if you tried. 

He notices how you’re looking at him, and glances at you sideways with suspicion, trying to keep his eyes on the road at the same time. “Did Isabel say something to you?” 

You’re like a deer caught in the headlights. “What? What are you- No. I don’t know what you’re- Pfft. I mean, we talked, but she didn’t say anything  _ out of the ordinary _ , if that’s what you mean.” 

Levi visibly suppresses a pissed-off frown with a forced grin and says, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

“Oh, Levi, don’t freak out. She was just-” 

“I’m not freaking out.” 

“Okay, I’m just saying-” 

“No, it’s fine, really. I knew she was going to do something like this. I shouldn’t have brought you with me. I should’ve let them take a cab or something.” 

“No!” you squeal, and then say more emphatically, “No. Really.” You remember what Isabel said earlier. “Levi, I had a really great time tonight. Isabel and Farlan are great people, and I loved meeting them.” 

“Isabel didn’t scare you off?” 

“No. Just the opposite, really.” Hearing those words come out of your mouth, you swallow any other words coming up and bite your tongue, electing to look out of the window until the tension of that comment dissipates. 

After what feels like five minutes, but is closer to ten seconds, Levi says quietly, “Well, good.” 

You exhale softly and decide to change the subject. “So, um… If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is the nature of Farlan and Isabel’s relationship?” 

Levi sighs and shakes his head. “Who the fuck knows. They met when she was in college; now the three of us are friends. I’ve been watching them for years and I’m willing to bet that there’s attraction in at least one direction. Whether either of them are aware of anything remains to be seen. Neither of them have said anything to me though, so I’m thinking they’re both still in the dark.” 

You chuckle. “That’s sweet. I love stuff like that.” You revel in the warm glow you get from thinking of friends falling in love, and, against your will, your thoughts drift to Eren. Suddenly, the pieces of your mind fall into place. “Oh,  _ that’s  _ who she reminds me of!” 

“Who?” 

“Isabel. I couldn’t figure out who she reminded me of. It’s Eren; she reminds me of Eren. She kind of looks like him in the eyes, and she’s sort of spazzy like him.” 

Levi chuckles, but then his smile fades quickly. “You were thinking about Eren? Just now?” 

Caught. “Um… yeah, a bit. Just for a second, just now.” 

“Hm.” 

You open your mouth reluctantly. “I’m not-” 

“It’s fine. Not my business.” 

You bite back your words and sigh discontentedly as you turn to look back out the window. After another minute or so of driving in slightly-less-than-comfortable silence, the car pulls in front of your apartment complex. 

“Well, here you are,” Levi says matter-of-factly, momentarily putting the car in park and not looking at you. 

Five minutes ago, you’d thought that he might try to kiss you at the end of the night, but now that the conversation has taken a turn, that feels pretty much off the table. You zip up your jacket and unbuckle your seatbelt reluctantly, then turn to face him. “Levi?” 

“Yeah?” He still doesn’t look at you. 

“Am I going to hear from you? Like, are you going to call me, or text me?” 

He finally turns to meet your eyes, faint interest and surprise lingering behind them. “Do you  _ want _ to hear from me?” 

You nod. 

He nods back. “Then, of course you will.” 

You give a small smile, and he reflects it perfectly on his lips.  _ His lips, _ you think to yourself.  _ We’re still just looking at each other.  _ The faint humming of the car does not quite drown out the sound of your own shallow breathing. Almost imperceptibly, Levi very slightly leans his head forward. You start to follow suit, holding eye contact with him, your faces getting closer and closer to touching. You let your eyelids flutter shut as the final inch of space is eliminated and his lips gently press to yours. This kiss is different from the first one-- the only parts of you that touch are your lips, and this puts so much focus on what’s happening there. You lean your bottom lip into his top lip as you feel your hands twitch slightly in your lap, wanting to move, but you don’t let them. As the kiss continues, you feel the tip of his nose rubbing against yours, and you let your tongue slip lightly past his lips. When he returns the movement, you can once again feel the jewelry of his snake bite piercings pressing against your mouth. 

A loud, vicious sound tears past the car, and you instinctively open your eyes and snap your head away to find the source of the noise. Probably just a motorcycle driving down the road, but now the kiss has ended. The unexpected awkwardness leaves both of you unsure of how to proceed. “Um…” Levi glances at you, then away, then at you again. You notice that his nose and the apples of his cheeks have taken on a slight flush. He raises his hand into a soft fist and gives you a light chuck on the arm. “Have a good night,” he says. 

You resist the urge to burst out laughing, but are not able to suppress a half-smile and an obvious teasing sparkle in your eyes. You return the gesture and say, “Right back at ya, buddy.” Levi clearly does not feel like being teased right that second, so with this, you excuse yourself from the vehicle and head up to your apartment. 

When you quietly unlock the door and pass through the doorway, you see an unidentified mound curled up in a blanket on your couch. You take off your shoes and approach. What you had thought was one person is actually two, though in a single pile. Jean and Marco are fast asleep, spooning on your couch. Jean’s arms appear to be wrapped tightly around Marco’s waist under the blanket, and Marco’s hands are folded in front of his face at the edge of the couch. They look simply lovely asleep there, their faces totally calm and their bodies fitting together like… Well, like one spoon nests into another. 

You survey the rest of the room and spy Sasha asleep in a reclining chair-- no Connie tonight. She looks less lovely, but no less peaceful-- her tousled chestnut hair is nesting all around her head, and her mouth is hanging wide open, allowing soft snores to emanate through the room. The three of them must have had an impulsive nighttime hang-out. 

You turn to go back to your bedroom, but stop to look back at the sleeping fellows in your living room and smile. Basking in the glow of your evening, and the happy sight of your friends silently welcoming you back to your nest, you think:  _ Goddamn. I am lucky.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember that another chapter will come on sunday as planned. hope you enjoyed!


	11. the Reckoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy sunday! i've made a decision to publish on both wednesdays and sundays (two chapters per week) indefinitely. i might go back to just sundays after a few weeks but for now i'm anxious to get these chapters published. anyways, enjoy the drama!

An icy wind nips your face as you walk against it. You’re scurrying across campus as fast as your legs can carry you, hiding within an insufficient fall jacket and beanie. It’s the first real chill of the season-- it’s about time, too, since you’re getting into late October now. You’re on your way to the student union to have your standard Wednesday lunch with Jean and Armin. 

It’s been four days since your first official date with Levi, and there’s been no correspondence between you yet. For the first two days, you were largely unbothered, but now that the fourth day is half over, you can feel yourself growing increasingly anxious. Sure, he said that he would contact you, but those had just been words. Sweet, sweet words that are draining the life force out of you with each passing day that you remember them. 

You feel warm, inviting air wash over your face as you walk through the doors of the student union. Usually, you get a Chick Fil A cobb salad for lunch, but today you’re feeling emotionally weird, so you decide to get some pasta from the Sbarro instead. Once you’ve acquired your meal, you sit down at a table and start shoveling penne into your mouth, not caring that Armin and Jean aren’t there yet. 

About five minutes and half a pasta bowl later, your eating is interrupted by the crashing down of a backpack on the table beyond your food. You look up, and there’s Jean, and Armin next to him. You mumble an unintelligible greeting through a mouthful of pasta. 

“Well, hello to you too, princess,” Jean teases, sitting down. 

You swallow hard. “Fuck you, man. Carbs are all that I have left.” 

Armin looks at you sympathetically. “No word yet from the boy, huh?” 

You shake your head. 

“You should just text him,” Jean says. “It’s been long enough.” 

“No, dammit,” you snap. “I am  _ not _ texting him. He said he would contact me, so  _ he’s _ the one that’s got to do something now, not me.” 

Jean squints at you. “You know you’re being ridiculous, right?” 

“No, I don’t know that at all.” 

“Well, you are. I haven’t seen you eat pasta like this since last year when you found out that Eren had a crush on his TA.” 

“C’mon, Jean, ease up,” Armin gently reprimands. 

“Yeah, Jean. Ease up,” you tease, somewhat disgruntled. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just… It’s so dumb to be in a staring contest with him like this. Trying to see which one of you will blink first. Although, both of you bastards are so goddamn moody, I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

Your nostrils flare. “Just because you  _ happen  _ to have fallen into the lap of the sweetest boy on the planet-- who  _ I _ introduced you to, by the way-- doesn’t mean you’re suddenly the relationship expert. We can’t all fall ass-backwards into puppy love.” 

Jean blushes but maintains a callous exterior. “It wasn’t ass-backwards, and it’s not puppy love. It’s not love at all, dammit, I just like him. I only met him, like, three weeks ago.” 

Armin grins at Jean. “Didn’t you two fall asleep spooning at (y/n) and Sasha’s place just a few days ago?” 

“How the hell do you know about that?” Jean exclaims. He knows how, of course; he’s just shocked that the event is being mentioned out loud. Among you and your friends, there is an intricate maze of groups texts with different combinations of people, the complexity of which results in a hive-mind of communication that an outsider could not hope to fathom. If anything happens to anyone in the group, and another is told about it or witnesses it, it’s virtually a guarantee that everyone will know about it within 24 hours. That’s part of what’s so awful about you and Eren fighting-- it’s fucking with the fabric of communication, resulting in a web of secrets and lies hanging above everyone’s heads, which is totally unprecedented. 

Your boys can see that you have the look on your face that comes with stressing about Eren. “Alright, I’ll bite,” Jean says, mocking reluctance. “What’s going on with you and Eren?” 

The routine question has a routine answer: “Nothing. Nothing since that night at the Spot. I haven’t seen him or texted him since.” 

Jean just nods, but Armin’s eyes dart away a moment, almost fast enough for you not to notice. Almost. “What?” you ask, looking at Armin directly. 

“Ugh.” He’s frustrated at being caught in a moment of contemplation. “It’s just- I know Eren feels bad. About that whole night. He keeps talking about how he can’t believe he let his emotions get the better of him, he can’t believe he kissed Mikasa right in front of you, he can’t believe he made such a complete ass out of himself.” 

“I can believe it,” Jean grumbles. 

You ignore him. “Well, be that as it may, he sure hasn’t apologized to me. Anyway, I feel like I also kind of owe  _ him _ an apology. I mean, I don’t necessarily think I did anything wrong, but I still feel bad that seeing me with Levi got him so riled up. I didn’t want that.” You look pointedly at Jean with the last sentence. 

“Hey! I gave you donuts! That’s supposed to be water under the bridge now.” 

You giggle as Armin says, “Eren says he wants to apologize to you. He’s been saying that for a couple days now, and this morning he said he was going to contact you soon.”

“Hm. Well, we’ll see about that,” you grumble and heap the last bite of pasta into your mouth. 

Armin continues. “I don’t think you should apologize if you don’t mean it, but… I hope you’ll at least hear him out.” He looks down at his hands folded in his lap. 

A powerful surge of guilt lances through your chest. “Aw, honey…” you reach out your hand at him and he unearths one from his lap, letting you clasp it and meeting your eyes. Armin is totally innocent and you know it-- the unintended casualty in a war between friends. You know how much Eren means to him, and you feel like pure shit that you’re putting strain on both of them. “Of course I’ll hear him out. Please don’t worry. I don’t  _ want _ to be upset with him. It’s just sort of tough, yeah? And I’m sure we’ll be totally cool in no time.” 

Armin nods. Just then, your phone, which is sitting there on the table, vibrates. All eyes fall to it as you release Armin’s hand to pick it up and grin in surprise. “No way.” You briefly flash the phone screen at your friends. “Speak of the devil.”

“The devil, indeed,” Jean quips. 

“Oh, hush,” Armin says. “What’d he say?” 

Reading the text, you’re shocked by how close it sounds to the words Armin said moments ago. “It says: ‘Hey. I feel really bad about what happened the other night. I can’t believe I acted like that. I’m hoping you’d be willing to talk in person and let me explain.’ I’m gonna answer right now.” 

“Thank you,” Armin says breathily, his chin leaning on his folded arms on the table, intently watching not you, but your phone. 

“I’m saying, ‘Of course. Whenever you want.’” 

“You should call the shots more than that,” Jean says. 

“No. This isn’t a confrontation, dude. I’m stopping this whole me vs him thing. From now on, it's both of us vs our own stupidity.” Jean chuckles and doesn’t press the issue further. Your phone buzzes again and you read the text aloud: “He says, ‘Great. My classes end tomorrow at 3, so I should be back to my apartment by 3:30 at the latest. If you come then, I’ll be there, and I promise I’ll give you snacks.’” Your mouth breaks into an unconscious smile as you read the last line. “Are you gonna be home then, Armin?” 

“No. I have class tomorrow into the evening. Hopefully, even if you’re still there when I get home, there won’t be any more palpable tension between you guys.” 

“Okay. I’m saying, ‘I’ll be there.’ Wow, I feel so much better already.” 

“Now, don’t get confused,” Jean cuts in. “Remember that you chose Levi.” 

“I’m not getting confused, weirdo. I like Levi. Although…” you sigh. “He sure is taking a while to get back to me.” 

“See, this is what I’m talking about. Eren’s nice to you for one second and you’re fucking melting. It’s obscene.” 

You’re offended, but you laugh. “I’m sorry, obscene? And I’m not  _ melting _ , I’m just pleased. I’m allowed to be pleased.” 

“Of course you are, but just don’t forget that now, you’re set on someone that’s better for you than Eren is. You’re getting proper treatment from Levi that Eren’s never been willing to give you.” Jean grins at you. “Eyes on the prize, baby. Eyes on the prize.” 

~~~

The following afternoon, at around 3:45, you arrive at Eren and Armin’s apartment building. You’d meant to get there at 3:30, but that was when you thought you were taking your bike. You’d ended up getting so worked up about the meeting that at the last second you’d decided to walk there instead to blow off steam, which has made you much later than you’d intended. You feel bad about it, but something deep within you is reveling in the idea of Eren being worried that you wouldn’t show, knowing how punctual you always try to be.  _ Let him stress about it. He stands me up; I arrive 15 minutes late. Eye for an eye.  _

When you knock on the door, you hear a faint “Coming!” from deep within the apartment, then the sound of hurried footsteps. When Eren opens the door, you immediately notice his outfit-- jeans, red hoodie, gray socks, and unusually nice-looking hair.  _ This is almost exactly how Jean looked when he came over with donuts, _ you think, smiling to yourself. Eren just thinks that you’re smiling at him, of course, and he returns it, along with a cheerful, “Hey, (y/n)! Thanks so much for coming.” 

“Of course.” When Eren leads you into his apartment, you find yourself behaving like a first-time visitor, even though you’ve been there countless times for a myriad of events. You know their apartment about as well as you know your own, but for some reason, you feel like the situation demands that you don’t touch anything or sit down anywhere without an invitation. You follow Eren into the kitchen. The apartment is a little bit bigger than the one you share with Sasha, but has largely the same layout. A kitchen adjoins with a living room, with two bedrooms on the other side of the apartment, split apart by a bathroom. It is also a boy’s apartment; undeniably so. Something about the beat up furniture and poorly organized kitchen says it very clearly, along with the fact that the whole place just smells like boys, and like Eren specifically. “I believe I was promised snacks?” you suggest, somewhat teasingly. 

“Yes…” Eren opens the refrigerator and unearths a bowl of strawberries. As he passes you to lead you into the living room, you see that the berries are all sliced nicely. 

“Aw,” you coo, “Did you cut those up for me?” 

“Yes.” Eren rolls his eyes as you both sit down on a well-loved upholstered couch. “And I managed to nick my finger in the process.” He holds up his left hand to show you the tip of his index finger, which is sporting a thin red cut. 

“You know that means you need to sharpen your knives, right? I mean, if the knife is slipping like that.” 

“Eh, I don’t really have the time or energy for stuff like that.” 

“Yes, of course. You’re a very important politician.” You smile. Even though you can feel yourself slipping into your old teasing habits with Eren, you can’t help but notice that the glow you usually get from being in his presence is much more dim than it has been in the past. It’s refreshing-- you feel like you can finally keep your wits about you, and you’re immensely grateful to your own mind that it’s allowing you to get over Eren. You’re glad you’re still feeling  _ something _ though, because otherwise you might be in a foul mood right now, and the impending conversation might not go as well. 

Eren laughs through his nose. “Yeah.” When you take a strawberry from the bowl placed in front of you on a coffee table, he follows your hand and lets his eyes rest on yours when you pop the strawberry into your mouth. Those bright eyes are full of a whole bunch of different emotions that have smushed themselves together into an intent focus on you. You know deep in the pit of your stomach that there’s a lot more going on with Eren right now than there is going on with you, and this flip-flop of power is, well, empowering to you. “Sorry, I don’t really have small talk in me right now,” he says. 

“That’s fine. Say whatever you want. It’s your party, after all.” 

Eren’s healthy-looking, tanned cheeks flush with pleasure at your tease, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at just how much that look is  _ not _ affecting you. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he begins. 

“Yes, I gathered as much.” 

Eren sighs and props his elbow up on the back of the couch, resting the side of his head in his palm. “I just…” He looks away. “I can’t believe I did all that. It’s so… embarrassing. I usually try to be so controlled, have the willpower to deal with people diplomatically, but that night, I just… Lost it. I had no idea…” he trails off. 

“You had no idea… what?” you encourage. 

“I had no idea that seeing you with some other guy would affect me that way.” 

You snort. The irony is not lost on you that you’ve seen Eren with at least a handful of other girls since your freshman year, and yet the one time you’re with another man, he can’t keep it together, even though you’ve had no trouble doing so in the past. “Yeah, I was pretty surprised, too. Definitely threw me off balance.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “That sucked. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that, I shouldn’t have kissed Mikasa in front of you, I shouldn’t have stood you up in the first place. I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

“It’s okay,” you shrug. 

“It’s  _ not _ , though. Not to me. I shouldn’t be treating you that way. I just…” He runs a hand through his thick, dark hair and shakes his head. “I just hope you can forgive me, (y/n).” 

“I can. I do. Really, Eren.” You nod at him and try to give him a reassuring smile. 

He returns your smile, puckering his lips slightly, and blinks slowly as he quietly says, “Thank you.” 

You don’t mimic the soft tone of his voice. “Anything for you, dude.” Just then, you feel Eren’s knee make contact with your thigh for a moment. You see a flash of something behind Eren’s eyes that vanishes in an instant, but you catch the meaning. You feel exactly how you felt when Levi ordered wine for you a few nights ago, but this time, the feeling is laced with foreboding instead of pleasure.  _ This isn’t a basic apology meeting. I’m being romanced right now. Goddammit… I should’ve known the second I saw those strawberries. _ You start talking before you even think of what you want to say. “Eren, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” 

“The wrong idea about what?” he coos, feigning ignorance, totally unfazed. 

You’re determined to faze him. “I can’t…” you shake your head and sputter air across your lips. “This isn’t what I want from this.” 

“What do you mean?” He looks slightly off-put, but you feel one of his feet sneak up on one of yours, and your leg automatically retreats to tuck under yourself as you readjust your sitting position on the couch. 

“What do  _ you _ mean?” you counter. 

“Look, I know we’ve been dancing around this for years, but it’s kind of the elephant in the room at this point. I’ve been thinking about it ever since the other night, and honestly… I didn’t know how much you meant to me until I saw that someone else was getting your attention.” 

You feel your cheeks flush with indignation. “What are you saying?” 

Eren scoffs. “Well, I can’t believe I’m having to walk you to the door here, (y/n), but what I’m saying is…” He looks right into your eyes. “I want to be with you.” 

You know that the words are too harsh before you even say them, but they’re already falling out of your mouth: “You’re too late.” 

He blinks at you. “What? What does that mean?” 

“Eren, I…” you’re shaking your head. “I’m not there anymore. I’m not where you are anymore. You waited too long. My head’s not…” You scoff. “My head’s not with  _ you _ anymore.” 

You didn’t necessarily mean to place emphasis on ‘you,’ but Eren catches it all the same. “Not with  _ me? _ With someone else, then?” 

“Uh…” you look away and shake your head, laughing nervously. “Not necessarily, but-” 

“Is it that guy? Levy?” 

“Levi,” you correct him without thinking of it. “And no- Well, not exactly, it’s just-” 

But your correcting his name was all the confirmation Eren needed. “It is, isn’t it? Wh-...” Eren cocks his head, an indignant grin on his face. “I mean, I screw up one time, and you’re moving on suddenly?” 

“Eren, it’s not about the screw-up. It’s not even really about you at all. Honestly, dude, you didn’t give me much to move on from.” A twinge of hurt flickers behind Eren’s eyes and you feel immediately guilty, trying to walk back on your words as you say: “I didn’t mean that. I just meant… Well, you had more than two years to say this, and you never did.” 

“I didn’t even know I felt this strongly until last week. And by the way, you also had two years. This is a two-way street.” 

You avert your eyes. “Eren, you know I’m not that kind of person.” 

“You are, though!” He’s starting to raise his voice, probably without meaning to. “You didn’t wait for that delinquent to contact you. You texted him first!” 

A whole lot of emotions hit you at once.  _ Delinquent?  _ “How did you even-” you cut yourself off.  _ Curse the information superhighway. Freaking Armin.  _ But Eren has just pointed out something you haven’t considered-- you really were willing to be forward with Levi, when you never have been with Eren. You think out loud: “Well… I don’t know. That’s different. He’s different.” 

“I’ll say. What do you even see in this guy? What does he have that I don’t?” 

You feel your nervous smile fade into a frown. “He has the balls to communicate with me, and actually fucking pay attention to how he feels. He shows up.” 

“And I don’t?” 

“ _ Literally,  _ Eren. You don’t show up. You’re so fucking deluded that you didn’t even notice that you liked me until you felt threatened.” In saying this, you realize something else. “And if you feel threatened by him, Eren, I think you know  _ exactly _ what I see in him.” 

Eren shakes his head at you. His face is saying anger, but his eyes are saying desperation. “No,” he lies. “I don’t know that at all. Besides…” he huffs with a wry smile. He’s remembered something. “You don’t even know how he feels about you. He hasn’t texted you in days.” You feel your face heat up, completely caught off-guard. Eren is nothing if not well-informed and articulate. He continues: “I’m the one that’s here right now, (y/n). He’s not willing to stake his claim.” 

You can’t think of a proper refute for the root of his argument, but your blood is boiling at the implications of his words. “I’m not a fucking piece of land, Eren. Nobody  _ claims _ me. Not Levi, and  _ certainly _ not you. I make my own choices… and my choice right now is  _ not you. _ ” Eren leans back. You overdid it. He turns away from you to rest his elbows on his knees, his right hand covering his mouth as he looks ahead at nothing in particular. You’re weak to it. “Eren, I…” You sigh. “That didn’t come out right. I… I don’t want to hurt you. Really.” 

“I’m not hurt.” 

“Okay. This isn’t what I want, though-- fighting with you. I’m not mad at you, and I don’t want you out of my life or anything like that… You’re my friend. And that supersedes anything I might have felt for you. You’re important to me.” Eren scoffs with a half smile. “You are! And you’re important to other people I love.”

“ _ Other _ people you love?” 

“Don’t do that. What I mean is that you’re an integral part of the fabric of my life. You don’t just lift out. The system is so delicate already just because we’ve been at odds for a few weeks.” You tilt your head at him, fighting the urge to put a hand on his shoulder. “You get what I’m saying, right? This isn’t just you and me. It’s everyone. When we fight, it sends ripples through all of our other friendships.” 

Eren’s anger has faded. “But I don’t want to think about everyone else right now. I want it to just be between you and me.” 

You shake your head gently. “That’s not possible and you know it. Everyone’s being weird right now, especially Armin and Jean.” 

Eren looks dubiously at you. “Okay, I know it bothers Armin and all, but I’m fairly certain Jean’s over the moon that he hasn’t had to deal with me.” 

“I’m not so sure. I don’t think he misses you per se-- at the very least, he’d never admit it-- but he’s a total maniac right now. He’s been way more irritable than usual. He keeps snapping at me. It’s like he needs you around as an outlet for his aggression.” 

You both laugh at this. Now the tension is starting to dissipate. “But all that’s just about other people,” Eren says, and then turns to look at you again. “I don’t want to be around someone that doesn’t want me there, that’s just dealing with me to make other people happy.” 

“That’s not what it is.” You reach out and give his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “First of all, their happiness is my happiness. I can’t really separate those two things in my head. And second of all, even if none of those people existed and all this was just about you and me, I would still want to keep you around.” 

“You would?” 

“Of course! You fuckin’ tickle me, dude. You’re really great to talk to, and you’re fun to be around. You’re a total psychopath and I can’t imagine my life without you.” 

He laughs, then looks thoughtful for a moment before he says, “Okay.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

You sigh deeply and lean back into the couch. “Thank fuck.” 

Eren leans back too and laughs with his mouth closed. “That was stressful.” 

“Yeah, it was. Pass the strawberries?” He does, and you pop one into your mouth as you say, “You gonna be okay now?”

“Eh. Yeah, I think so. I just need to chill out, I guess.” You mumble an agreement. Eren then looks extremely reluctant to be speaking as he asks, “So, uh… You gonna go for it with that delinquent?” 

You cringe internally. “You  _ have _ to stop saying that. And really, you don’t have to do this at all. We don’t need to talk about this kind of thing with each other.” 

“No, it’s okay. I want to.” 

You sigh. “I mean, I wasn’t planning on texting him or anything. I kind of feel like it’s his turn. He can contact me if he wants to.” 

He shakes his head. “That’s bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re being a pussy.” 

You scoff and laugh in surprise. “You don’t think I should wait for him to text me?” 

“No.” 

“Well, what should I do then?” 

“Not that.” Eren’s shoulders tense. “Look, I’m trying to be understanding, but let’s not get carried away. I’m not giving you advice.” 

“Okay, okay.” You wave your hands in resignation. 

Eren’s hands start tapping restlessly on his thighs. “Look, I really don’t want to kick you out or anything, but I feel like I need to go for a run right now to blow off steam.” 

You chuckle inwardly. “Okay, yeah. No problem.” 

When you leave Eren’s apartment, the cold air outside of the building is refreshing instead of biting. You feel so much better that you can hardly believe it. You start to walk home, but stop after about a block. You’re feeling strangely empowered-- like there’s a part of your chest that holds all of your courage, and it just doubled in size. There’s also a lot of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You pull your phone out of your back pocket and dial. The other end picks up after three rings.

“Hey. [...]. Yeah, I was just thinking about you. [...]. Mm-hmm… Yeah, I was just thinking that it’s been a few days since you said I’d hear from you, and that… I want to see you. [...]. Heh, yeah. [...]. Tonight? Well, I can’t tonight, but what about tomorrow? [...]. Yeah, okay. Sure, sounds good. [...]. Okay, I’ll see you then. Can’t wait.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, no levi in this chapter really. but i think we can all agree that we needed to nip this eren thing in the bud. you're just so beautiful and captivating! he needs to move on. i promise i'll give you lots and lots of levi content on wednesday.


	12. the Name of the Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i be naming my chapters after abba songs lol. happy wednesday everyone! i've been drafting like crazy for the past few days and i'm getting very excited about the direction this story is going. for today, get ready for a full chap of nothing but levi, levi, levi. you really have your hands full with these boys, don't you reader-chan? have fun!

The agreement is that you will show up at Levi’s house at 7 pm today, which is a Friday, and that Levi will kick out any lingering roommates, coworkers, or family members and replace them with food. The making of these plans was mostly a product of adrenaline and elation, and sticking to them is contingent upon you not losing your nerve at any point-- the nerve to go to a boy’s house alone, knowing that there would be no one else there but him. Scary stuff. 

You want to walk there, but it would take you 45 minutes to do so, not to mention that it’s already dark outside, so Sasha insists upon driving you. You’re bringing only your phone, a lip gloss, and pepper spray, all of which you’re keeping in a small black purse. The pepper spray is there to help you keep your nerve. You’re wearing high-waisted skinny jeans and a scoop-neck black sweater with a pair of olive green winter boots, but no jacket, because you’re already heating up from your nerves. 

When Sasha drops you off in front of the building, you wish that Isabel were there to whisk you upstairs, but instead you’re alone, which means that you have to will yourself up to Levi’s apartment yourself.  _ This was a horrible idea. We should have met in public again.  _ In spite of these thoughts, you land at the door to Levi’s apartment and knock.

For a few seconds, there is only silence, then the door opens. You see Levi for an instant, but he disappears back into the apartment as quickly as he came, leaving you to cross the threshold of the door on your own. You’re completely bewildered by what just happened, but confusion fades when a heavenly aroma washes over you. He’s been cooking. You tentatively close the door behind you and move into the kitchen, then try to subtly announce your presence with an “Um?” 

His back is turned to you as he says lowly, “My sauce needs me.” 

“Um. What?” 

His head turns to you, but his body stays facing the stove. “What?” He shakes his head as if deterring cobwebs. “Oh. I didn’t realize I said that out loud.” He turns his head back to his work. 

“It’s fine.” You’re extremely amused. “What’s going on in here?” 

“Chicken, rice, and veggies. If the sauce the chicken is in gets too thick I’m going to lose my shit.” 

“Okay.” You just stand there, unsure of what to do with yourself. You decide that it’s perfectly acceptable to wait there for further instruction. After all, the view is perfectly entertaining. Levi is wearing loose gray sweatpants and a tight-fitting black sweater with a v neck. His undercut looks like it’s been trimmed recently, and the longer part of his hair is frizzing a bit with the humidity in the kitchen. 

You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring when Levi starts to dart around the kitchen saying, “Okay… Okay, I think we’re almost ready.” He looks at you to meet your eyes, for longer than a second, finally. He pauses. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Your nerves have completely faded away by now. It’s hard to be intimidated by someone so frazzled. 

He goes back to darting around the kitchen, doing this, that, and the other thing. “I’ll be done in just a minute. Go ahead and get comfy, yeah? We can eat in the living room if you promise not to spill anything on the couch.” 

“Heh. Okay.” You do as you’re told and get comfortable on the couch you’d sat on with Isabel a few nights ago. As you wait, you can feel wave after wave of manic energy radiating from the kitchen. You reach into your bag to pull out your phone, and while your hand is rooting around in there, it closes around an unfamiliar object. You pull it out to see what it is. It’s a condom.You gasp shortly and immediately return it to the purse. Sasha must have snuck it in there when you weren’t looking.  _ Oh, great. Now I’m all flustered.  _

As you’re zipping your purse back up, Levi drifts into the living room to drop off two wine glasses full of some unspecified red wine. “Just one more second.” He flees back into the kitchen and returns with two white ceramic bowls and two forks. He hands you one of the bowls and inserts a fork as you take it from him. You inhale deeply the steam emanating from the bowl. 

“This smells amazing.” 

“Thanks.” He’s still incredibly fidgety and distracted as he sits down, but once he does, he releases the tension in his shoulders, shutting his eyes and gently working out his neck. He breathes deeply and opens his eyes, turning to you. The erratic energy has vanished in the blink of an eye. As you start to eat, he says, “How are you?” 

You’re totally flabbergasted by his behavior. “I’m okay, I guess. I don’t really understand what just happened here, though.” 

“What’re you talking about?” 

“Well, you were just acting super different there for a minute.” 

He shrugs. “Yeah, I get wrapped up in cooking sometimes.” 

You furrow your brows. “No, I get that part. But you just… turned it off. So fast. Just calm waters all of the sudden.” 

“Oh.” He looks around, not knowing what to say, and just shrugs again. “Yeah.” He pauses. “You look nice.” 

You smile. “Thanks, so do you.” 

He looks down, remembering what he’s wearing. “Shit. I forgot to change.” He starts to move to get up. “I’m gonna just-” 

“No. No, it’s good.” The gray sweatpants and form-fitting sweater combination is really doing a number on you, so this comes out more emphatically than you might have intended. 

Levi seems amused. “Okay, then. So, um… I was kind of surprised that you called me.” 

You smile and look away. “Yeah. Honestly, so was I.” 

“Anything in particular that brought that on?” 

You want to conceal the whole Eren of it all, if you can. “Oh, nothing, really. Just an impulse.” That must not have been terribly convincing, because Levi just keeps looking at you. He sips his wine, he blinks, he’s not saying anything. “I called you right after I left Eren’s apartment,” you say. 

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, and the surprise does not necessarily seem to be pleasant. “Oh. That sounds… interesting.” 

“It wasn’t,” you lie. 

Levi looks away and pretends to ponder. “I wonder what Eren might have said to you that would make you want to call me… I can think of several options, just off the top of my head…” 

“Well, stop thinking. I don’t want to talk about it.” 

He looks back at you. “Oh, it was something bad? Okay, interesting…” 

“Stop that!” you swat at his arm playfully. “Stop imagining shit.” 

“If you want me to stop, I suggest you fill in the blanks.” 

“Christ almighty. Fine. He told me that he… that he was sorry for acting like a dick at the bar a couple weeks ago.” 

“Okay, what else?” 

You scoff. “Nothing else!” 

“There is very clearly something else.” There’s a very strange dichotomy going on with Levi right now. On the one hand, his facial expressions are betraying no emotion. On the other hand, the tone of his voice keeps inflecting to tease you, and his word choice especially tells a different story from his eyes. 

“Oh, why do you care?” you protest, feeling yourself losing the fight. 

“Why do I care? I care for whatever reason you want. Maybe I’m nosy as fuck. Maybe I’m asking for Mikasa. Maybe I’m secretly a huge pervert. It’s whatever you want. The point is, I want to know.” 

You find a new source of defiance in this. “Alright, well, you know what? If I don’t get to know why you care, then you don’t get to know what Eren said to me.” 

He narrows his eyes at you. “Hm.” He takes a sip of wine. “Well.” 

He says nothing else, which completely confounds you. It’s been your understanding for the past few years that teasing information leads to flirting, which leads to closeness. That’s how you’ve been operating with Eren, and you certainly managed to capture his attention in so doing. You keep eating, trying not to shake your head out of discomfort and befuddlement.  _ I guess… That’s not going to work with this guy.  _ You’re totally disarmed.  _ It’s okay. Let’s just reset.  _ “Um…” You start talking before you know what you’re about to say. “This is really delicious, by the way.” 

Half-smirk. “Thanks.” 

Hesitation. “Honestly, I thought you were going to order in from somewhere.” 

“Yeah… I didn’t really feel like spending all that money. I haven’t cooked in a while, anyway.” 

“How’d you learn to cook?” 

“My mom taught me when I was a kid. After a while, I was cooking for her a lot.” 

“Oh.” You’re trying to melt the thin wall of ice that’s suddenly appeared between yourself and Levi, but this feels like one barrier of question that you shouldn’t cross. 

Levi gives you the side eye, and then shakes his head with a short laugh. 

“What?” you ask, feeling incredibly vulnerable. 

“Nothing. It’s just…” he turns to you, a look of knowing resignation on his face. “Someone who didn’t already know about my mom would probably ask about her.” 

“Um-” 

“It’s fine. I figured Isabel told you  _ something _ , but I thought that she told you about… something else.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Levi looks amused and interested by how suddenly you’re clamming up. “ _ Was _ there… anything else?” 

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “You know, I kind of feel like conversations aren’t supposed to feel like a game of chess.” 

“Well, you’re the one that keeps acting like a brat, dangling information in front of my face like I’m a cat instead of just answering my questions.” 

You’re simultaneously indignant and enticed, causing your cheeks to flush. You look away. “Well, maybe you should consider giving me a good reason to tell you what you want to know.” 

Levi blinks slowly in lieu of rolling his eyes. “Fair enough.” He leans his face in to about two feet away from yours, forcing you to look in his eyes, and says, “How about, at the drop of a hat, I agreed to make you dinner and invite you into my home? Or, I helped you make that little boyfriend of yours jealous?” 

You frown slightly and blink, glancing away. “Eren’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Okay.” His tone falls to something just barely above a whisper. “You know, I’m perfectly content to sit here and let you dance around what you’re thinking, but you’re the one that called me, and I think you might find this more productive if you actually tell me why you’re here.” 

You’re looking at him sideways, your eyes narrowed, trying to ignore how hot your face feels. “The only reason I called you was because  _ you  _ hadn’t called  _ me _ .” 

“Who said I wasn’t going to? And didn’t you say earlier that it had something to do with Eren?” You don’t answer, but you don’t shy away from his gaze either. “That’s fine.” He leans away from you again to sit upright once more. “I’m sure we’ll get to that at some point. We can start with something else.” He takes a long drink from his glass of wine. “Why don’t we just start by getting on equal footing, then? Maybe you can tell me what it was that Isabel told you about me?” 

You can feel your heartbeat and your breathing quickening against your will. The sensation is something adjacent to a fight-or-flight instinct, but is absent of any actual willingness to flee. Levi has called you out on your bullshit and taken over the situation, and you can’t deny how enticing you find this side of him. With the realness of the conversation, and the stripping down of any defensive teasing you’ve been trying to wear as a mask, you can feel yourself submitting to the pull of your current circumstances. “She told me about your mom,” you begin. “And your dad, and her mom. She told me you lived with them in Philly for a few years.” 

“Did she tell you  _ how _ my mom died?” 

“No.” 

“Okay. Go on.” 

You feel yourself gaining momentum the more you say. “She told me about Petra. Why you guys broke up. And when.” 

He nods. “And I’m guessing you had some thoughts about that.” 

“You ran into me at the bar on the same day that you found out she cheated on you.” 

“That’s right.” Suddenly, his voice returns to a normal timbre. “Well. Now we’re one step closer to being on the same page.” 

It isn’t until the strange fog around Levi fades that you realize that he was angry with you, in the same way that a parent might be angry with a young child who misbehaved in school and lied about it. You’ve been dealing with an uncommunicative, immature, flighty dynamic with Eren for years, so much so that you’ve pretty much forgotten how to be real with someone you like. You’ve been lulled into a tendency to hide your feelings behind teasing, and to never let the person you’re talking to be allowed to hold any power over you, lest they abuse it later and make you regret it. Now that Levi has taken away your option to do any of that, you realize that you really are safe to let your guard down, and that you were frantic and flighty for nothing. “I think it’s my turn.” 

“To do what?” 

“To ask  _ you _ something. Something I want to know.” 

Levi holds out his hand palm-up, like a waiter serving a dish. “Ask away.” 

“I thought I would hear from you after a couple days. Why was it taking so long?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought I would give you a little bit more time before I tried to interfere with you.” 

“Time to do what?” 

“To decide what to do about that friend of yours.” 

Eren. At least he’s not calling him your boyfriend anymore. “But why leave me alone about it? Why not try to be around and…” You swallow, then push out an echo of Eren’s words. “Stake your claim?” 

“I didn’t want to confuse you. Besides, I’d rather not be kept around just because I was a distraction from someone else. Anyway, it’s my turn. What else did Eren say to you yesterday?” 

You want this back-and-forth to continue, but you also feel the need to not show all your cards at once. “He said that he felt threatened by you when he saw you with me at the Spot. My turn. Why did you bring me with you to pick up your sister at the airport?” 

“Because I was having a nice time, and I wanted it to continue. It’s not complicated. My turn. What else did Eren say? I know there’s more.” 

“He said that seeing me with you made him realize that he wanted to be with me. My turn. Why didn’t you go with Isabel to Philadelphia?” 

“Because… Because Farlan offered to go with her instead, and I’d rather not see those people ever again, if I can help it. My turn. What did you say when Eren told you how he felt?” 

You’re starting to answer more quickly now, without any hesitation. “I told him that he was too late and that I didn’t want to hurt him but that I’ve moved on, but I also said that he’s still important to me and that I want to stay friends. My turn. Why are you so focused on what I said to Eren?” 

“Because I can’t tell if you’re hanging around me because you prefer me, or if it’s because I’m the only one giving you any attention. My turn. Why do you still want to stay friends with Eren?” 

“Because he’s my friend, and because if we can’t be friends with each other then our entire social circle will collapse around it. And because I  _ want  _ to keep him in my life. He’s important to me. My turn. Are you a jealous person?” 

“No. Not usually. I just can’t deal with people keeping secrets from me. My turn. Am I the reason that you told Eren you weren’t interested?” 

“I didn’t say that to him.” 

“Am I?” 

“Yes.”

With each word, Levi imperceptibly leans in further toward you. “Am I just a distraction?” 

“You’re certainly distract _ ing _ .” 

“Why are you with  _ me _ tonight instead of Eren?” 

Thoughts fall out of your head and through your mouth like gumballs from a broken machine. “Because being around him has always made me so anxious that I can’t think straight, but when I’m with you, I feel safe. But I’m never bored. And everything you say surprises me, and I never stop thinking about the things you say, and I don’t have to think about how to act when I’m around you, and…” 

Before you realize it, Levi’s face is only inches away from your own, his sharp, gray eyes boring into you with intensity and understanding. You’re out of words. You tilt your chin forward, closing the gap and pressing your lips firmly into his. He’s leaning into you in an instant, easing your mouth open and slipping his tongue past your lips. The kiss is deep and intense, and you can feel your breaths becoming shallow and scattered in response. As Levi works your mouth, his hand grips your left thigh, and you exhale deeply through your nose at the contact. Your left hand lifts to rest on his upper arm, the textured fabric of his sweater rubbing the sensitive skin of your palm. 

Suddenly, Levi flattens his forearm across your chest, pushing you back hard into the back of the couch as he moves to straddle you. Your mouths disconnect for a moment, and you open your eyes halfway to catch a glimpse of Levi’s perfect, reddened face before he leans down to place a kiss on your neck, then your jawline, then your cheek. Each one sends a ripple of heated energy through your skin like pebbles falling into the calm water of a lake, and you’re completely overwhelmed when he hungrily kisses your mouth again. Your hands respond independently of you, your left finding the skin of his lower back, exposed by the movement of his sweater, and your right burying into his hair to hold him there at your face. 

Every inch of you feels aflame, and you perceive those flames seeping through your skin and heating up every bit of your insides. The rest of the world is lost to you, and you feel each place that you’re in contact with Levi that much more because of it. Your mouths taste like the wine you’ve been drinking, and your nose is filled with the smell of his cologne and his shampoo and  _ him.  _ You can feel the instincts that come with your attraction to him start to take over. It’s not that you’ve never made out with anyone before, it’s just that it’s been awhile, and your draw to Levi is just that powerful that it makes you completely forget yourself. Both of your hands find their way around his back, and you feel and grab at the shape of him, awash in the way his muscles flex over you and the subtle inconsistencies of his tattooed skin where it’s exposed by his shirt. Without trying to, you let your hands remain there with his skin and slowly start to rise, following the shape of his torso under his shirt. 

Conversely, Levi’s hands have been traveling around the front of you, tending to pause around the front of your shoulders and your waist. Not much of your skin is left exposed by your top other than your neck and the top part of your chest before your breasts begin. Levi’s right hand rests at the place where your neck curves into your shoulder, and his thumb gently traces your collarbone. You immediately miss the pressure of his hand on your skin when it lifts away to replace itself on your hip. By inches, Levi’s hand trails up your back under your shirt, seeming to absorb the feel of your skin under each fingertip. You feel his fingers tug at the clasp of your bra. 

Automatically, you gasp and jerk your face back and away from him, and his hand immediately releases and rests below the clasp and on your back. Levi’s breathing is somewhat ragged, but his eyes are full of patience and focus on you. “What’s up?” he says, in that voice one step above a whisper. 

Again, you’re talking without thinking at all, but this time, it doesn’t work so well. “I don’t… I- This is… You’re… I mean, it’s not that I- Well, actually… What I mean is-” 

Levi gently presses your mouth with the thumb of his opposite hand-- that is, the one that is not still currently pressed up against your back. “Shh… Think first, then talk.” 

You take a deep breath and blink slowly. “I haven’t…” you tilt your head slightly in lieu of a few more words. 

He understands what you’re saying. “Oh. Okay.” 

“And I’m not…”  _ Ready.  _ You shake your head almost imperceptibly. 

Levi nods. “Okay. That’s not a problem.” 

You shrug gently, looking at him with an expression of defeat. Levi dismounts from straddling your lap, picks up his wine glass, and takes a short sip as he starts to bounce his left leg from his ankle. As he leans forward to put the glass back down on the coffee table, you say, “I’m sorry.” 

“No,” he immediately responds, almost like a reflex. “Don’t  _ ever _ … This is not worth apologizing about. Honestly. I mean…” He sighs shortly, and turns to look at you-- no barriers hiding what’s going on behind his eyes. “I’m just happy to be here.” 

You nod, relaxing your shoulders. “Okay.”

“You good?” 

“Yeah. I’m good.” 

“Cool?” 

You smile. “Ice cold.” 

Levi laughs, and then looks at a loss of what to say for a moment. “Um… Do you want to watch a movie, or something?” 

You’re a little surprised, as per usual when you’re with him, but you say, “Yeah, sure. That sounds great.” 

“Nice. What do you want to watch?” 

“Ah… I don’t know. Something easy. Funny. Something I don’t have to think too much about.” 

“Hm… I have the Princess Bride on DVD?” 

You smile and exhale through your nose. “That sounds perfect.” 

Levi gets up to set up the movie, and you very subtly and surreptitiously admire how nice his butt looks in those sweatpants, and how his slender waist melts into his hips.  _ Just because I’m not ready to order yet doesn’t mean I can’t keep looking at the menu.  _ As Levi sits back down and the movie begins, you are making a very substantial effort to act completely normal. 

Levi is very amused by the look on your face. “Hey,” he says suddenly, and you turn your head to him, raising your eyebrows. He jerks his head to the side, beckoning you in his direction. 

You trick yourself into not understanding what he wants, and say, “What?” 

“C’mere.” This time, he holds his arm out, indicating where you’re meant to go. 

“Okay, jeez,” you say in a somewhat goofy tone. Levi leans back into the arm of the couch, angling his body diagonally to put his outside foot up on the coffee table. Doing as you’re told, you place yourself in the space between Levi and the back of the couch, letting his arm wrap around your shoulders. You’re trying not to be forward or presumptuous and so you don’t know what to do with your arms. They end up staying at your side, your left getting smushed under the full weight of your body.

Levi furrows his brows at you, looking at your face with an expression of amusement that you can’t see because you won’t look at his face. “Is that comfortable?” he asks. 

“No,” you admit. 

“Okay. Well… Why don’t you try  _ this _ .” Levi arches his back to reach his outside arm underneath, finds the hand attached to your squished arm, and grabs onto it to needle your arm through the space between his back and the padding of the couch. Your hand is now out there in the air, your arm under him but not smushed, and you  _ know _ he wants you to put your hand there on his waist but you simply  _ will not  _ do it because you’re so skittish. He pauses, and then uses two fingers to let your wrist tilt your hand into his waist anyway so that you don’t have to make that decision. Then, his arm around your shoulders shifts so that he may clasp his hand around the back of your other hand. This hand he places at the center of his chest there in front of your face, and then returns his arm to its original position around your shoulders. “Is that better?” Levi asks teasingly. 

“Yes,” you answer sheepishly, and you can feel your cheeks heating up so much that you’re almost feverish. 

“Good.” 

It’s a good thing that you’ve already seen the Princess Bride, because if this were the first time you’ve seen it, you would not understand or remember a damn thing happening in the movie. Your attention is preoccupied with other things; for one, Levi did not move either of your legs, so your left, which is directly under the right, keeps threatening to fall asleep. For another, Levi having his arm around your shoulders means that occasionally, the back of his hand will trace along the side of your face, or a bit of your hair will find its way between his thumb and index finger for a moment. Your left ear is pressed against the side of his chest, which means that if you are not focusing intently on the dialogue of the movie, you are listening to his heartbeat. It is all very distracting. You keep mentally cycling through each way that his body is making contact with yours, appreciating the pressure in each place. You’re barely aware of your thumb idly feeling the skin of Levi’s waist, which is good, because if you were any more aware of it you would most likely feel very embarrassed. 

There’s no way for you to hold a wine glass, but Levi keeps sipping from his over the duration of the movie. The alcohol gradually slows his heartbeat somewhat. You discover a fun game: if you move your head a little, or shift the hand on his chest, or nudge your knee against his leg, you get to hear his heartbeat speed up a bit. This entertains you and excites you to no end, mostly because you’re pretty sure he’s not aware of it. 

And he’s sort of aware of it, but not really. What Levi knows is that he likes when you absentmindedly touch him, feeling the person that lies there beneath the skin. He doesn’t know that you’re doing it specifically to make him excitable, though. He thinks that either you don’t realize you’re doing it, or that you’re doing it just because you like him. 

Which is true, really. You can tell yourself that you only like to shift around because you get to listen and feel him being attracted to you, but it’s not your own power that you’re reveling in. At the end of the day, you’re reveling in the connection, the warm sensation that grows in the pit of your stomach with each additional piece of Levi that you memorize, and the feeling that you are completely safe, secure, desired, and accepted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think that probably we were expecting this chapter to end in smut. since it didn't, i'd like to explain why.   
> i would like to live in a world where the men you're interested in not only respect your boundaries, but like you more for having them and actively look for where they are, paying attention to your signals and making you feel good in whatever way you're wanting at that time. unfortunately, that world is an unreachable fantasy to me, so instead i create this world and give it to you as a present. cheers.   
> smut is coming in the next chapter to be published this sunday.


	13. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy sunday! it's the moment you all have been waiting for-- the first smut chapter. smut is at the end of the chapter. if you'd like to avoid it just click away once you get back to your apartment. for more details take a look at the tags (i'm editing this story's tags right after i publish).  
> this chapter is a behemoth, about twice as long as my other chapters so far i think. wednesday chap will be the same.  
> so um yeah. enjoy lol. i am nervous ahahahha

Thunder claps outside of the transparent double-doors of Rose Bowls. Within the store, you stand behind the cash register, leaning on the counter in front of you. Your coworker, Ymir, is across the storefront, seated in one of the booths with her feet up on the table in front of her and her hands clasped behind her head. It is a very foul-weathered Wednesday, and as such the two of you haven’t had a single customer come into the store in over half an hour. So, you’re taking advantage of some very-much-appreciated bonding time with your favorite coworker. 

“I mean fuck, (y/n), is there something about me that just designates me a woman-repeller? Is it something I’m putting out there?” Ymir has been lamenting her single status for several minutes now. 

“No, Ymir. You happen to be a very eligible lesbian. I think you’re just having bad luck.” You tilt your head at her and smirk. “You know I’d be all over you if I swung that way.” 

Ymir takes the joke-y praise with a confident head nod. “You know it, baby. In another lifetime, we would have been the ultimate power couple.” You both laugh, and Ymir goes on: “Speaking of power couples, how are things going with you and the goth daddy?” 

“Jesus, Ymir!” you scold good-naturedly through a sharp laugh. Ymir doesn’t know a lot about the situation with you and Levi, but you’ve been feeding her snippets of information during your shared shifts when things are slow. 

“Come on, let me live vicariously through you. Didn’t you guys have another date recently? How did it go?” 

“It was nice, as per usual.” The aforementioned recent date is your fourth with Levi, including the night that you went back to his apartment and met his roommate and sister, as well as the night that you watched the Princess Bride together. 

“Good, good. So, what’re you thinking?” 

You tilt your head quizzically. “What do you mean?” 

“Just, like… how’re you feeling about him and all? Where do you see this going?” 

“Uhm…” You shrug bashfully. “I don’t know. Does anybody ever know where things are going? Right now, I’m just happy to have him around.” 

“So, you’re not going to drop him anytime soon?” 

“Nope; not planning on it.” 

“Hm…” Ymir takes on a mischievous expression. “Do you think this guy might be the one that you finally…” She makes some crude gestures with her hands. 

You scoff and roll your eyes as you blush. “For Chrissake, Ymir. I don’t know!” 

“Um, I think you do know,” Ymir teases. “What’s with that look?” 

“Oh my God, enough. Look, I… I mean, this is definitely the most secure I’ve ever felt with someone. Like, I feel so…” You rub your upper arm with your opposite hand. “Safe. When I’m with him. Like nothing could hurt me. I’m just… myself. And he’s just himself, and that’s plenty, and it’s… comfy.” You pucker your lips playfully as you say the last word, and then you get a little lost in what you’re saying, and go on: “And forreal, he’s just so…” You bare your teeth. “Sexy. I just want to be touching him all the time. He’s got this taut, narrow frame, but he’s all… powerful.” 

Even though she’s gay, Ymir nods, urging you on as if she’s just as attracted to this guy as you are. “Uh-huh. And I bet those tattoos do it for you, too?” 

You bite your lip and nod. “Hell yes. And the piercings. My favorites are the snake bites.” 

“Heh. I’ll bet they are.” 

You shake your head, trying to shake off what you just said. “Alright, enough of this. Um… You got any Halloween plans?” It’s October 27th, so Halloween is just around the corner. 

“Ugh. No.” Ymir throws her head back and rolls her eyes. “I was gonna do a bar crawl with my roommate and some of his friends, but now his mom is making him come home to take his little sister to a dance at her middle school. And I don’t really know his friends, so now I’m not going. Blegh. What about you? Any plans?” 

Your face lights up. “Yes. One of my guy friends is having a little get-together at his place. A costume thing. I’m really hyped about it.”

“Yeah? Which guy-friend? The one you had a crush on, the one with the horse face, the scared baby, or the gay bartender?” 

You bite back a chuckle, imagining how Jean would react if he knew that this was how Ymir knew him. “The horse face.” 

“Very cool, very cool. You bringing the  _ boy _ along?” 

Your hands fidget together. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I should.” 

“Why not?” 

You sigh exasperatedly. “It’s just that I’m not sure yet about him meeting my friends. He’s really different from them and I’m not super confident that they’ll get along. Plus, Eren’s going to be there, and I’ve only just barely settled things with him. I wouldn’t want to  _ un _ settle him.” 

Ymir nods thoughtfully. “Uh-huh. Well, they have to meet him eventually, right? I mean, if you’re keeping him around.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” You rub the back of your neck with your hand. 

“And that includes Eren, yes? You can’t keep them in separate rooms of your life forever.” 

“Yeah…” 

“And, you know…” Ymir lifts her feet off of the table to lean forward with her hands on her knees. “If I were your boy, I might not love the idea of you keeping me away from your friends and the guy you used to have a crush on.” 

“Ugh, that’s true.” You tap your forehead down on the counter and then look back up at her. “So you think I should invite him.” 

“I really do. You can’t put it off forever, and this is a relatively low-stress occasion.” 

You sigh. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for the advice.” 

“No prob, (y/n).” Ymir glances at her watch. “Woah, didn’t your shift end, like, ten minutes ago?” 

You check the time on your phone. “Shit. Yeah, it did.” You grab your backpack from under the counter and sling it over your shoulder. “Have a good rest of your shift, Ymir.” 

“Thanks. Hey, if you know of any queer girls that might like me, please send them my way. I’m dying over here.” 

You laugh on your way to the door, and pause before you walk through. “Hey, why don’t you tag along to this Halloween party? I’m sure my friend would be okay with it. It’s going to be a pretty low-key thing, but since you don’t have anything else going on…” 

Ymir’s eyes light up. “Yeah! That sounds great!” 

You smile. “Okay, cool. I’ll text you the details. See ya, dude.” 

“Bye, (y/n)!”

As you step out into the rain, you pull the hood of your jacket over your head and root out your umbrella from the side pocket of your backpack to deploy it above your head. Your insistence upon walking to your destination whenever possible is a bit cumbersome in adverse weather conditions. As you walk down the street with your head down, you take what Ymir suggested about Levi to heart. This is the first time that you’ve felt like getting into a deep, committed relationship, and you have to admit to yourself that that’s going to require sacrifices just like this one sooner or later. Or rather, not sacrifices, but uncomfortable, somewhat scary social situations.  _ Or spooky situations, _ you think to yourself, smiling. You pull out your phone to call Levi, and he picks up halfway through the third ring. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

You speak breathily as you walk. “Hey. Yeah, um… I just had a question.” 

“Shoot.” 

“Jean’s having a Halloween party at his place, and I’m gonna go.” 

“Okay.” Pause. “What’s your question?” 

“Oh. Um… Yeah, I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to come along?” You feel stupid saying it. “I mean, you don’t have to. I get it if it’s weird to meet all my friends and everything, and like I totally don’t want to ask you to do something you’re not game for, but I thought that-” 

“Oi. Enough, brat. I’d love to come.” 

You beam into the phone like Levi can actually see you. “Really?” 

“Yeah, of course. It sounds like it’s important.” 

“Yeah, I guess it is…” You snap into your logistics and planning brain. “Okay. It’s a costume thing, so you have to wear a costume, okay? I’ll be wearing a costume, too. Also, I think we should carpool. I live closer to him than you do, so it would probably make the most sense for you to pick me up on the way. I’ll text you his address right now. I think we should get there around 9, so you should pick me up at 8:50, which means you should be leaving your place at 8:35 at the latest.” 

“(Y/n)?” 

“Yes?” 

“Do I actually have to wear a costume, or is that just a suggestion?” 

“Levi, that was only, like, the first thing I said!” You then shift into a flirtatious teasing tone. “And no, it’s not a suggestion. You absolutely must wear a costume, or my reputation shall surely be destroyed. Seriously, if you show up not in a costume, they’re gonna turn on us so fast.” 

You hear him chuckle into the receiver. “Alright, fine. Hey, listen, is there going to be booze at this thing?” 

You grin. “If there isn’t, then hell has frozen over. Why?” 

“Yeah, I just feel like I should say something… It’s just- It’s a social event, and there’s going to be a lot of drinking, which means I’m going to drink. And if I start drinking, I’m going to keep drinking until I’m drunk, and then, well…” 

“What? And then, what?” 

“And then… Well, sometimes I can get a little… You know what, I don’t want to jinx it. That was plenty of warning. I’m sure you can handle it.” 

Even though you’re just a little bit alarmed, you’re still extremely amused. “Um. Okay?” 

“Okay. I’m picking you up at 8:50?” 

“Yes.” 

“I guess I’ll see you then. I don’t want to push you off the phone or anything, but I am at work so I should probably go.” 

“Oh, yeah, no problem. I’ll see you in a few days.” 

After you hang up, you think about what Levi said as you keep walking back to your apartment.  _ That was definitely super weird. I wonder why he didn’t just tell me the whole thing, whatever it was. Well, if it was something that was actually worth worrying about, he would certainly tell me. So I’m sure it’s nothing.  _ For the rest of your walk, you brainstorm costume ideas for yourself, and by the time you’re home, you have the perfect idea. 

~~~

Four days later, you hop into Levi’s car. Rather than greet him normally, upon seeing his costume, you exclaim, “Ohh, I like it!” He’s dressed as Jack Skellington, and the only way you can really tell is because of the pin-striped waistcoat. Other than this, he’s wearing black jeans (as per usual) and a white t-shirt, instead of a collared shirt buttoned up into a bat-shaped bow tie as is customary for the character. He did, however, draw a black zipper shape across his mouth to complete the look. 

“Thanks. Farlan was Jack Skellington last year, so he let me borrow the coat.” 

You snort. “I’m shocked it fit you.” 

Levi totally brushes past the slight to his height and says, “It didn’t. I had to alter it.” 

“You altered it?” You cock your head. “You can sew?” 

Levi sighs and shuts his eyes for just a moment. “Yes. Fuck. Well, congratulations-- you’ve uncovered my secret talent. I feel like this begs further explanation… Well, I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I’m fairly small for a man. So essentially, to avoid shopping in the juniors’ section, I’ve been hemming my own clothes for more than a decade.” You can’t help but laugh at this, and before you have time to be worried that he could be offended by that, you see he’s smiling too. As he drives, he glances at you sideways, trying to figure out your costume. “Um… What are you supposed to be, exactly?” 

Your whole face lights up. You’re wearing black leggings and a zip-up athletic tank top with sneakers and a ponytail-- the sort of outfit a track and field athlete might wear. You also have a plastic gold medal around your neck and a sweatband around your forehead, as well as two wrapped loaves of whole wheat bread attached to your shoulders. “I’m a breadwinner! Get it? Because I’m a winner, with the medal, but then there’s also bread.” 

You’re looking at him with a huge grin on your face and stars in your eyes, and he has to look away from you to avoid getting distracted and getting into a car crash. He nods and bites back a smile. “Nice. Really nice.” 

When you arrive outside of Jean’s apartment, he answers the door mere seconds after your knock. He has a huge smile on his face, which is flushed with the exaltation of throwing a party and being half-drunk. You think he’s probably been drinking all day. “Heyyy, what’s up, guys?” he greets the two of you. 

“Hi, Jean,” you say somewhat patronizingly. “This is Levi. Levi, this is Jean.” 

Jean nods slowly, still smiling. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve met. A few times, actually” 

You tilt your head in realization. “Oh, yeah, I guess you have.” 

As Jean lets you into the apartment, you’re pretty sure that everyone that was invited has already arrived. There’s Jean, his roommates Reiner and Bertholdt, Marco, Sasha and Connie, Armin, Eren, and even Ymir. There’s just one person around that you don’t recognize-- a short, petite blond girl dressed as a cowgirl in a pink cowgirl hat. You realize that in fact, Levi has already met everyone here at least in passing except for Ymir, Jean’s roommates, and the blond girl.  _ Maybe this won’t be such a big thing, after all. _ “I’m going to go get us some drinks, okay?” you say to Levi, who nods and leans against the wall of the apartment. 

You fade into the kitchen where Jean is loitering as if he’s the king of everything and everyone. “Hey, Jean,” you say as you pick up a bottle of vodka. 

“No, no, let me do it. I’m the bartender tonight,” Jean says, and confiscates the bottle. “What do you want?” 

“Screwdrivers, I guess.” You give his costume a closer look. He’s wearing a white cropped t-shirt, baggy jeans, and sneakers, and has a purple hoodie tied around his hips. “Who’re you?” 

Jean’s smile fades slightly. “I’m Bill.” 

“Who in the fuck is Bill?” 

“Bill S. Preston, Esquire.” You still are looking at him like he’s grown a second head, so he elaborates, “Bill of  _ Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure _ .” 

You smile suddenly. “Oh, yeah! I think I’ve seen that. Yeah, you’re the guy that’s not Keanu Reeves.” 

Jean nods, a slight sigh escaping his lips as he mixes your drinks. “Yes, that’s correct. Marco wanted to be Bill and Ted, so after much back and forth, I agreed to wear a crop top.” 

“Oh, well that explains it.” You glance across the apartment to where Marco is standing, chatting with Sasha and the blond girl you don’t know. Sure enough, he’s wearing a white t-shirt, a black vest, loose, black shorts to his knees, Converse shoes, and a red jacket tied around his waist. “Hey, who’s that blond girl he’s with?” 

“That’s Christa. She’s Marco’s friend from work.” 

Suddenly, Ymir appears behind you, a strong hand clapped onto your shoulder. She seems to be a bit tipsy, already. “Hey, (y/n)! Thanks for the invite, my girl.” 

“Of course. Sorry we got here after you. I was hoping you’d get here after us so that I could do introductions and stuff.” 

“Pssshhhht. N-B-D. You can make it up to me by telling me what that cute little girl’s name is.” 

You nod. “Apparently, that’s Christa. She’s-” 

“Got it. Thanks.” 

She starts to walk away, but you grab the sleeve of her light blue button-up and pull her back momentarily. “Wait! Tell me what your costume is!” 

She holds her hands out to present her outfit-- the loose button up is tucked into dark blue jeans, which hold a single paintbrush in the front pocket. “I’m Bob Ross, baby! And you?” 

Jean nods. “Yeah, what’re you supposed to be, (y/n)?” 

You grin. “I’m a breadwinner. Get it? Bread…” you point to the loaves, “Winner!” you hold up the medal. 

Jean looks at you like you're a little kid that wants their crayon scribbles put on the refrigerator, but Ymir claps your shoulder again, and says with a laugh, “I love it,” then disappears off into the crowd. 

“Breadwinner? Seriously?” Jean berates you. 

“Oh, kiss it.” You turn away from him in annoyance, and in doing so, spot Levi just where you’ve left him, being interfered with by a very enthusiastic-looking Sasha. “Fuck. Gimme those drinks. I have other matters to attend to.” 

You take the screwdrivers to Levi and Sasha’s wall, and as you hand a glass to Levi, you say, “Alright, what’s going on here?” Levi is not bothered by Sasha, but is glad that you’re back all the same. 

“Just chatting,” Sasha chirps. “Nice costumes, by the way. Both of you.” She gives you a teasing look. She’s known about the breadwinner costume since its conception. 

You snicker. “You too, babe.” Sasha is doing a couples costume with Connie-- Mario and Luigi. Sasha’s long-sleeved green shirt designates her as Luigi, and, of course, because she’s Sasha, she insisted upon wearing a fake moustache as well. The costumes are very cute and funny, and suit the couple perfectly. 

“Thanks,” Sasha coos, and then looks distractedly away. “Oh, yo, I think we’re doing shots.” She starts to walk away. “Wait for me! Me too!” 

She leaves you alone, and you notice that Levi hasn’t really said anything since you got here. “You good?” you ask him. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m good.” 

You give him a knowing smile. “Look, I know it’s a lot of people. I bet you probably feel like you’re a babysitter or something, too. I promise they’re not all total lunatics.” 

Levi frowns, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink. “I don’t feel that way. Just you watch. I will meet  _ all _ of the friends.” 

You laugh. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.” 

You take Levi on a tour of all of the partygoers-- or rather, all of them but Eren. You figure that if Eren and Levi are going to talk to each other tonight, you’d rather it happen organically. You’re not terribly impressed by Bertholdt and Reiner’s costumes-- a banana, and a shirt that says ‘Error 404: Costume Not Found,’ respectively. You are  _ very _ entertained by Armin’s costume, which is a plain white sheet with two holes cut out in it thrown over his head. Really, you only knew that the ghost was Armin by process of elimination, since you couldn’t see his face. By the time you get to introducing Levi to Ymir, she’s already firmly attached herself to Christa’s side, and the petite blond girl looks perfectly pleased by it. Levi doesn’t really say much to your friends, but he responds nicely and politely when questions are asked of him, generally defaulting to just hovering around your side. Before the end of the friend tour, three drinks have passed yours and Levi’s lips including the original screwdrivers, and you have a very nice buzz going. 

As your third drink empties, you collapse on Jean’s couch, with Levi standing next to you on the other side of the arm of the couch. “You want me to go grab more drinks?” he asks you. 

“Yeah, that would be great.” As he leaves you, you reflect on what a great idea it was to ask him along to this shindig. It’s a very low-key event, but you happen to have a very fun group of friends, so the costume party is the perfect blend of intimate and high-energy. You sigh contentedly and look to your right at the other end of the couch. There’s Eren, sporting a basic-looking suit and a slicked, formal hairstyle. “Hey, dude,” you say.

He turns to look at you. “Hey.” He scans you quickly up and down. “Breadwinner.” 

You gasp. “Oh my gosh! You’re the only person that’s guessed it all night!” 

He gives you a shit-eating grin. “I didn’t guess. Sasha told me.” 

“Oh.” You purse your lips. “Well, anyway, who’re you supposed to be?” 

Eren reaches to the outer side of the couch that’s hidden from you, and holds up an ax, looking at you. 

“Um…” You try to figure it out, but you’re coming up empty. “I’m sorry, I don’t get it.” 

Eren sighs exasperatedly. “Patrick Bateman? American Psycho?” He drops the axe to his side and leans back into the couch. “How quickly we forget the classics.” 

You laugh through your nose and shake your head. It’s just like him to find an excuse to dress all neat and cleaned-up. “Maybe it would be more clear if you actually looked like Christian Bale?” 

“Hey, I look just as much like Christian Bale as the next guy.” 

“Right, that’s what I’m saying. Patrick Bateman doesn’t really have a very specific outfit, so usually people pick a costume like his because they look a lot like-”

You’re cut off by Levi suddenly appearing and sitting himself down between you and Eren without preamble. He hands you one of the two glasses he’s holding. Once his hand is free, he places it midway up the inside of your right thigh. “Triple whiskey.”

“Ohh, thanks.” You take a big swig and are unable to hold back a grimace. “Whew, that’s strong.”

“Yeah, that’s a sipping whiskey. That glass should last for quite some time.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know. I’m not a whiskey girl, really.” 

“Well, I am.” 

You smile. “You’re a whiskey girl?” you tease. 

“Yes.” You notice that Levi is making a lot more physical contact with you right now than he usually does when you two are in public. You figure that it has something to do with the fact that you’ve just been talking to Eren. 

Levi frees your right thigh and offers his hand to Eren. “Levi. I don’t think we’ve met officially.” 

Eren accepts the handshake, looking very much like he’s just been taken down a peg. “Eren. Nice costume, man. Jack Skellington. Love it.” 

Post-handshake, Levi reaches his arm around you to place his hand on your waist, pulling you close to him. “Thanks, kid,” he says to Eren. “And you are…” 

Eren retrieves the axe again, this time holding it up and making the crazy face that Christian Bale pulls in the film. 

“Oh. American Psycho?” Levi says immediately. 

Even though Eren doesn’t smile, his eyes light up. “Yes! (Y/n) didn’t get it. She said I don’t look enough like Christian Bale.” 

“Well, my girlfriend isn’t a big fan of horror films.” 

_ Girlfriend? My girlfriend? _ Even though you think of your relationship with Levi as being exclusive and going somewhere, these titles have not been used before. You fight off a full-body blush as you watch Eren’s reaction for weirdness. He seems largely unfazed as he says, “Oh, I’m well aware.”

Just then, from across the room, Sasha waves her arms and shouts, “Everyone! Everyone! I want to play a game! Everyone come sit in a circle on the ground, here! We’re playing Paranoia!” 

The group obliges and assembles themselves accordingly. Jean next to Marco, Sasha next to Connie, Bertholdt next to Reiner, Ymir next to Christa, Eren next to Armin, and Levi behind you, leaning against the bottom of the couch because he’s decided not to participate. As the game progresses, you have largely abandoned your drink, because you have a perfectly fantastic buzz going that you don’t want to overdo. Unbeknownst to you, however, Levi not only finishes his whiskey, but yours as well. When it gets to your turn in the game, Armin, who’s sitting on your right, leans to whisper his question in your ear: “Who in the circle do you think is the most likely to get arrested within the next year?” 

To the group, you announce your answer: “Um… Sasha.” 

The people in the group look at each other with giddy faces, wondering what the question was that Armin asked you. “Okay, flip the coin, already!” Sasha insists. Jean, the designated coin flipper, does so, and it lands on heads, so you laugh and say out loud to the group: “He asked, ‘Who in the circle is most likely to get arrested in the next year?’” 

Everyone laughs, and Sasha says, “You know it!” 

You’ve already thought of a question to ask Jean, who’s on your left. You lean to him and whisper: “Out of everyone in the circle, who do you think is going to be the  _ last _ to get married?” 

Jean shrugs, and says aloud: “Eren.” 

“Oh, come on!” Eren exclaims. 

“Dude, you don’t even know what the question was,” you berate him. 

“Well, flip it, flip it,” Eren says to Jean, waving his hand. 

Since you’ve been wrapped up in the game, you haven’t noticed that while it’s been your turn, Levi has gotten up from where he was seated behind you, gone to the kitchen, done a shot of tequila, and is just now returning. As Jean flips the coin, you feel two lithe arms encircle your waist from behind. You turn your head to look, even though you already know who it is. Somehow, Levi manages to shimmy himself underneath you so that you’re sitting in his folded lap. You’re shocked and a little red-faced at the blatant PDA, and you don’t quite know how to act. None of the other couples present are acting even remotely like this, and you’re acutely aware that by virtue of sitting in a circle, your relationship is totally on display in front of all of your friends. As Levi buries his face in your neck, you whisper to him, “Hey, what’s going on?” 

He shrugs. “I dunno,” he mumbles into your skin. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Mm-hm.” He nods, his nose rubbing into your neck. 

“Why are y-” You remember what he said a few days ago, alluding to something that happens when he gets drunk. “Oh, okay.”  _ He must be one of those types that gets all touchy-feely when they get drunk _ . It’s not at  _ all _ what you expected out of Levi’s drunk personality, but even though you’re a little embarrassed, the surprise is a pleasant one. 

You realize that everyone is looking at you in varying degrees of surprise and enthusiasm. Sasha, in particular, has a big, stupid grin on her face. You decide to act like nothing’s happening, for the benefit of the group. “Um, whose turn is it?” 

Jean shakes his head of its metaphorical cobwebs and says, “Uh, I guess it’s my turn to ask Marco something.” 

And so the game moves along in an orderly fashion, or as orderly as it can with everyone in varying degrees of drunkenness. You’re not paying attention to the game even a little bit at this point. You can’t, not with Levi’s arms wrapped around you and woven together in front of your stomach. His face is still buried in your neck, and he keeps moving it around to plant soft little kisses on any bit of skin he can reach without straining his neck. The side of your neck, your hairline behind your ear, your ear, your jawline. Along with those little kisses, you can also feel his breath against your skin, gently tickling your peach fuzz. With the way his eyes are tending to flutter closed, you would think he’s sleepy if it weren’t for the very energetic and purposeful way he’s keeping himself touching you in every way possible. 

You think of what Ymir asked you a few days before, about whether Levi is the one you were going to lose your virginity with. The answer is yes, and you know it. Just the same, you don’t think you’re quite ready yet. The thing is, all you can think about right now is getting away from this party and getting your hands on Levi.  _ That doesn’t have to mean sex, _ you think.  _ It means whatever I want it to mean. _

As you do your best to think, you notice that the whispering rounds of the game are steadily making their way around the circle and inevitably heading in your direction again. You’re not sure about the logistics of participating in this game with a cuddly maniac on your waist, what with all of the leaning and coin flipping, so you check the time on your phone. 11:37. You can’t believe you’ve been here for almost three hours-- It feels like half an hour.  _ Time flies when you’re having fun.  _

“Hey, are you ready to leave?” you ask Levi quietly, hoping no one else is listening. 

“I’m up for whatever,” he mumbles. “It’s whatever you want. If you want to leave, we can leave.” 

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.” 

As mysteriously as he got there, Levi shimmies his way out from under you and stands up behind you. As you get up yourself, you say, “Hey, guys, I think we’re gonna head out.” 

“It’s not even midnight yet,” Jean says suspiciously.

“Yeah, I’m just feeling kind of tired.” 

Jean nods. “I’ll bet you are.” 

“So I think I’m just going to go home and get into bed.” 

“I bet you will.” 

“Uh… yeah. Okay, bye, everyone!” You hasten your farewell because Levi has grabbed your hand and is gently pulling you away from the group. As you leave the apartment, you say to Levi, “You can’t drive, right?” 

“Fuck no,” he deadpans, his voice deep and rasping. “You can drive my car, if you want. Are  _ you _ drunk?” 

“Eh. A little tipsy. It’s a five minute drive down a mostly-abandoned road. I’ll be fine.” 

In the car on the way back to your apartment, Levi pulls a little parcel of makeup-remover wipes from the pocket of his waistcoat and wipes off his haphazard Jack Skellington makeup. “How drunk are you?” you ask him. 

“So-so. Drunk, not wasted. I don’t think I can drive myself home. I guess I’ll call an Uber from your place or something.” 

You shrug. “Or you could just crash with me, if you want.” 

He turns to look at your face. “Yeah?” 

You nod, but keep your eyes on the road. “Yeah.” 

When you return to your building, you walk into your apartment ahead of Levi. As you cross past the kitchen, you peel off the loaves of bread from your shoulders and place them on the table. You kick off your tennis shoes haphazardly and say, “I feel like this bread is probably still okay to eat, right? I mean, it was on my shoulders for a few hours, but people keep bread in a pantry all the time, so I think it should be okay if I put them in the fridge right away. Although, aren’t kids always doing science projects about how bread molds slower when it’s not kept refrigerated? Or am I thinking of bananas spoiling faster when you put them in the fridge? I personally would never put bananas in the fridge, but I don’t necessarily think there’s anything wrong with-” 

You’re cut off by Levi grabbing onto your wrist from behind you and turning you around to kiss you. You abandon your train of thought immediately and bury your hands in his hair, pressing the front of your body into his. Your tongues are immediately past each others’ lips, so much so that it feels like they’re trying to trade places. Levi’s hands travel from your upper back, to your waist, to your backside. You wrap your arms around his neck, welcoming his touch. You open your eyes halfway, and then turn yourself around to walk backwards into your bedroom, planting hungry kisses on Levi’s face all the way. 

In your room, the lights are still off, so just a bit of light from the hallway trails its way in. You hadn’t anticipated bringing Levi into your room, so it’s not necessarily immaculately clean, but it’s clean enough that it doesn’t embarrass you. You initiate a movement from standing to lying on your bed, and though Levi ends up on top of you, you feel like you’re completely in control-- or rather, that you have as much control as you would know what to do with right now. He props himself up with one forearm next to your head, and his other hand holds fast to the side of your face. The deep, passionate way that he kisses you is knocking the air out of your chest and making you forget where you are. Your hands grab distractedly at his back, his waist, his arms, his chest, as your feet flex involuntarily and your knee perks up. 

Levi has one leg planted with its knee at your hip, and the other positioned between your legs. You can feel that he’s being respectful, trying his hardest not to overstep your boundaries. However, you are more than ready to dissolve a couple of those boundaries. You grab onto his free hand and confidently place it on your breast. His neck arches as he squeezes you firmly, causing you to pull your mouth away from him for just an instant and gasp. With your right hand, you fish underneath the Skellington blazer and push it off of his shoulder. Receiving this signal, Levi straightens up momentarily and sheds the jacket, before coming back down to you and grabbing your waist to pull you on top of him. Both of his hands come to rest on the small of your back, and then travel down to your ass. You position your hands on his shoulders to balance as you allow him to pull your hips in against his. 

You’re acutely aware that Levi is starting to harden against your hip. Even though you’ve never felt that before, you know it as soon as it happens. The alcohol in your system encourages you to throw caution to the wind as you grind into him further, eliciting a low, growl-like moan from Levi’s throat. 

You love that sound, so you answer it with an “Mmm~” as you feel yourself heating up between your legs. With a surge of confidence, you lift one of your hands from Levi’s shoulders and let it fall between his legs to palm his bulge. This earns you a light, breathy moan, so you grab him more firmly, which causes him to retreat his face from yours and gasp. You then remove your hand, replacing it with your hips, and fish your hand under his shirt to run your fingers along his toned stomach, slowly pushing the shirt up. 

Levi lets go of you to pull his shirt off, and you follow suit, unzipping your tank top and casting it aside, leaving you in a black, uncomplicated bra. Again, you had not necessarily planned for this. When you lean back down, you kiss his collarbone, and then his neck, staying there for a moment to lightly nip at the edge of one of his tattoos. Your hands trail from his shoulders down his chest as he grabs onto your ass again with both hands, this time giving you a hard slap on one of your cheeks. You release his neck from your mouth and exhale sharply. Every square inch of your skin feels like it could set fire to any match struck against it-- you’re burning up all over, and the hottest part of you is your core, which is now starting to clench with arousal. 

You get a crazy idea. You raise your head to give Levi another deep kiss, then lift up to look into his eyes. He meets your gaze with a burning intensity lighting up the silver. You start to move down his body to position your face over his hips. 

Understanding you, Levi unzips his jeans and pulls them down to just below his ass, leaving his boxers for you to deal with. His cock is firmly tented underneath them, and you feel yourself quiver, reveling in the fact that you’re able to generate such arousal. 

You’re also starting to feel a bit alarmed by the responsibility you’ve just managed to saddle yourself with. You remember that over the years, you’ve watched a few instructional YouTube videos about how this sort of thing is meant to be done. Focusing on that, you grip the waistband of Levi’s boxers and start to pull them down. His erection strains against the pull, rebounding as it comes free. He’s not small, and he seems even bigger once you wrap your head around the fact that you’re down there to put him in your mouth. His tip is shining with precum, and as you wrap your hand around him, you can feel the pulsing of arousal underneath his skin. 

Levi notices you hesitating and says softly in an almost-whisper: “It’s okay. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

You look up at him briefly and say, “I want to.” 

“Are you sure?” 

In response, you open your mouth and press your tongue at the base of his cock, trailing a long, slow lick from there to his tip. This earns you an appreciative, guttural moan as Levi leans his head back into your pillow. Keeping your hand gripped at his base, you tentatively wrap your lips around the tip and start to take him into your mouth, slowly. This is mostly to be careful that you don’t take more than you can handle, but the teasing pace of your movements drives Levi crazy. His chest is heaving in anticipation, and the muscles in his legs flex from the effort of not reflexively thrusting himself deep into your throat. You manage to push your lips down to where your hand wraps around the base of his cock, and you flatten your hand against his pelvis to see how far you can go. You stop when you feel his tip make contact with the back of your throat, with just an inch to go past your lips. You pull your head back just slightly, replacing a thumb and two fingers around the base of his cock. Secure, you start to move. 

Remembering to keep your teeth away, you press your tongue into his pulsing length as you slowly work your mouth up and down, up and down. Levi’s hands find the back of your head, keeping your hair out of the way and guiding your movements, but not forcing you to go down further than you do on your own. Each time you come to the top, you delicately swirl your tongue around his tip. Your free hand, which had been resting on Levi’s hip, finds its way down below your other hand to cup his balls. When you give them a gentle squeeze, you hear a gasp from above. You repeat this action as you speed up the motion of your mouth in tandem. 

You lament the fact that both of your hands are occupied, because your mound is begging for attention. It’s pulsing so hard that it almost feels like a fresh bruise. You let the sensation motivate you as you take Levi’s entire cock into your mouth, letting his tip press into the back of your throat as you stifle your gag reflex. You moan, low and long into him, and the vibrations sent from the tip down the shaft result in an “Ah,  _ fuck, _ ” just as you have to pull away to avoid gagging. You pump him a few times with your hand before replacing your mouth at the tip. This time, Levi’s hands encourage you to move faster. You follow suit, as quickly as you can, pressing your tongue into his cock and bobbing your head up and down. 

“Shit.  _ Shit… _ Oh my God, I’m gonna cum.  _ Fuck. _ ” 

Levi’s hips start to involuntarily jutt into your face, and after a few more bobs of your head, he grips into your hair firmly. You push your mouth down almost to the base of his cock and start to swallow as you feel pumps of hot cum manifest at the back of your throat. Levi lets out a deep, guttural moan as he cums, holding your head fast against him. After a few seconds, his grip on your hair relaxes, and you very tenderly lift your head and open your mouth to release his still-twitching cock. 

Sitting up on your knees, you take a moment to wipe away the saliva-and-precum combination that’s dripping down your face with the heel of your palm. You see Levi’s chest heaving slowly but deeply, his arm thrown over his face. His mouth is parted just slightly. He throws his arm off of his face to meet your eyes with a half-open gaze. “Holy fuck, (y/n),” he breathes, tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling up his pants. 

Feeling exceedingly powerful, you shift up in the bed to lay on your side next to him, take his face in your hand, and kiss him on his jawline and then his lips. Your legs are rubbing together compulsively, as you are still craving friction at your pulsing mound between them. Levi notices this as his hand takes your waist, then ghosts around the front of your pelvis and makes contact with your crotch. 

You inhale sharply through your nose and your eyes close. Suddenly, Levi’s hand leaves you and you miss its pressure immediately, even as his fingertips make contact with your jawline, beckoning your eyes to open. They do, and when your eyes make contact with his, Levi raises his eyebrows in silent question:  _ Are you sure? _

You nod, shutting your eyes again as Levi rolls on top of you, once again grabbing onto your mound and massaging deeply. You moan breathily, craving a closer type of contact. You tuck your thumbs into the waistband of your leggings, but before you can start to pull them down, Levi is doing it for you, leaving your mauve panties in place. In return, you unclasp your bra and shed it gracefully from you, tossing it to the floor beside your bed. Levi leans over you, his hot breath dancing on your neck. His left hand grabs onto your breast, rolling his thumb over your nipple. Your breath quickens, and he reaches his other hand underneath your panties slipping two fingers among your slick folds, now dripping for him with want. Levi leans his head down to suck and bite on the supple skin of your breast, earning an appreciative gasp from you. At the same time, you feel his fingers work the heat between your legs, finding your clit. You moan softly when he does, and he knows he’s hit home. He positions one finger on either side of your clit and begins to rub in slow, aching circles. 

Your knees bend and flex as your toes curl, driven to fidgeting by the teasing slow pace of Levi’s movements. You crave more pressure and speed. “Levi, please…” you breathe, and he obliges you, but only very slightly. You whine and slam your head back into your pillow. Suddenly, Levi’s hands leave you, and when you look up to see what’s the matter, he’s moving his face down to your panties. In response, you tuck your thumbs into their waistband, shimmying them off of your hips. Levi finishes the job, pulling them down your legs and letting them fall God knows where. You close your eyes. 

You feel Levi’s hot mouth make contact with your inner thigh, leaving a trail of kisses up towards your hot, throbbing pussy. Just when you think he’s about to get there, he skips over it and repeats the process on your other side, even more slowly. At last, he places a single kiss on your clit, and you whine. You feel his fingers start to circle around your entrance. His tongue makes contact with your clit as he plunges a single finger inside you. You moan deeply as he starts to suck on your clit, swirling his tongue around you at the same time. His finger repeatedly arches into your g-spot, such that you’re being pushed from opposite sides by his tongue and his finger. Your legs are spread wide already, but your knees try to tuck even further up towards your hips. You paw distractedly at Levi’s head as he moves. 

Levi starts to rub his tongue up and down on your pussy with a tremendous pressure that makes you moan. You feel a second finger slip inside of you, and the two start to scissor in and out of you in rhythm with the motion of his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the squelching of his fingers moving in and out of your dripping entrance, and your breathing, which becomes more labored in response. You feel yourself getting close to the edge, and you unconsciously grip harder to Levi’s head in an attempt to increase the pressure. 

Levi responds to your signal with increased speed of his tongue on your clit, and slips a third finger into you along with the first two. With all three, he pushes persistently into your g-spot. Filled up and overwhelmed, you gasp: “Hah… Hah… Oh my God, don’t stop.  _ Fuck. _ ”

You’re teetering on the edge of orgasm, and you can feel Levi’s fingers filling you up even more as your walls start to tighten around them. He feels this, and starts to thrash his fingers around spastically inside of you, tearing you open and hurling you over the edge. 

Your back arches as low moan emanates from the back of your throat and out of your slacked jaw. You cum hard into Levi’s face, and you can feel your clit throbbing against his still-moving tongue as your walls clench forcefully around his fingers. He keeps moving his fingers slowly, allowing you to ride out the waves of your orgasm as they pass. Finally, you’re left panting and twitching, your face flushed red as a tomato as Levi’s mouth and hand leave you. 

You hide your face in your hands as your breathing starts to slow. You feel Levi lie down next to you in your bed. He holds your wrist gently to move your hand away from your face. You remove your other hand yourself and sheepishly meet his eyes, which are looking at you with unparalleled intensity and affection. “So?” he says. 

“What?” 

“How’d I do?” 

You snort. “That was… incredible. Two thumbs up.” 

Levi chuckles. 

“I’m so sleepy now,” you sigh. “Are you crashing?” 

He raises an eyebrow at you. “I hope so. Otherwise I’d feel like a common street whore.”

You laugh. “Well, I’m going to bed immediately.” 

“Okay.” 

You both get out of bed momentarily to get comfortable. You throw on a t-shirt and boyshorts from your dresser, and Levi throws his own t-shirt back on and strips down to his boxers. When you both get under the covers and you lie on your side facing away from him. Levi sneaks up behind you and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his body. 

“Are you still drunk?” you ask. 

“Mm-hm.” He nods, his nose rubbing into your back as he does. “I’m gonna pass the fuck out.” 

You chuckle warmly. “Well, goodnight, Levi.” 

“Goodnight, (y/n).” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was my first ever smut chapter that i wrote so please be gentle with me lollllll. ALSO-- i absolutely do not condone driving if you've had anything to drink that night. reader-chan made an unsafe choice. but it was absolutely essential that i get her and levi back to the apartment and not abandon their car so this is what happened. don't drink and drive kiddos!


	14. Protector

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo happy wednesday! i am excited as all fuck to publish this chapter. it's one of my favorite things i've ever written, and i hope you enjoy it too. there's smut in this one too so if you're looking to avoid it don't worry because you can see it coming a mile away. anyways enjoy!!

Levi is smoking on the balcony of his apartment in the pale light of an early November evening. As he takes a long drag from his cigarette, the sliding door opens and Farlan walks through. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Farlan asks. 

Levi is wearing just a t-shirt and sweatpants, which is odd for almost-winter. He shrugs. “Not really. I’m only out here for a fucking second anyway.” He notices Farlan eyeing his cigarette. “I’m trying to quit.” 

“Yeah, you look like you’re trying really hard,” Farlan says sarcastically, and Levi rolls his eyes at him. “Put it out.” 

Levi glares at him, takes another long drag, and then flicks the cigarette off the edge of the balcony. “Yes, Dr. Shithead,” he says, referencing Farlan’s M.D., which he uses to practice psychiatry. Levi walks back into the apartment. 

Farlan follows him inside and closes the door. “You weren’t planning on cooking tonight, right?” 

“No. Why?” 

“I feel like wings and breadsticks. You wanna get Domino’s?” 

“Eh. Yeah, fine.” Levi’s phone rings in his pocket. As he pulls it out and looks at who’s calling, he says, “It’s (y/n); I’ve gotta take this. Get at least half of them spicy for me, okay?” He answers your call and puts the phone to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?” 

“Hey.” 

You sound weird, and Levi is immediately concerned. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah. No. It’s-” Your voice is wavering. “I have to go to the hospital.” 

“Are you okay? Do I need to call you an ambulance?” 

“No, it’s not me, they just called me. It’s Jean; he got in a car accident. And Sasha’s in the Poconos with Connie, and I don’t have a car, and no one can drive me-” 

“I’m on my way, okay? Where is he?” 

“St Joseph Medical.” 

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes, alright? Wait for me outside of your building.” 

You sigh deeply into the receiver. “Thank you, Levi.” 

“Of course. Okay, I’m gonna let you go now so I can drive. I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.” 

Levi waits to hear the click before he puts his phone away. “I gotta go,” he says to Farlan. 

“Is (y/n) okay?” he asks, having overheard the telephone conversation. 

Levi tours the apartment gathering his keys, wallet, jacket, socks, and shoes as he speaks. “Yeah, she’s safe. Her friend got in a car crash, and she needs me to drive her to the hospital. Hey, don’t worry about my wings. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Okay, no problem. Wow, that really sucks for her. Text me and let me know how she’s doing, okay?” 

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Levi mutters, not really noticing what he’s agreeing to. “Alright, I’m out of here. I’ll be back at some point, I assume.” 

“Okay, bye…” 

Levi slams the door of the apartment as he leaves, and his keys jingle in his loose sweatpants pocket as he walks purposefully down the hallway, his protective instincts flickering. He drives quickly to your apartment-- probably much faster than is reasonably safe. He is a man on a mission, summoned to rescue his fair maiden from strife. It is a responsibility that he takes very seriously. 

When he rolls up to your apartment building, you’re there waiting, just as you were instructed to do. You’re also wearing sweatpants, as well as a tank top, an unzipped extra-large hoodie, and Crocs with socks. Your hair is tied up in a haphazard bun. You clearly had not been expecting to go anywhere tonight-- neither of you had. 

When you get in the car, Levi immediately asks, “Hey, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. Please just start driving,” you answer quickly, your eyes darting around and your hands fidgeting. 

“Okay.” After a minute or so of driving in silence, Levi asks, “Why did the hospital call  _ you _ ? That doesn’t really make sense.” 

You shake your head. “I don’t really get it either. The woman on the phone said that I’m Jean’s emergency contact.” 

Levi frowns. “Huh… Is that odd?” 

You sigh exasperatedly. “I don’t know. That’s not really what I’m thinking about.” 

“What  _ are _ you thinking about?” 

You shrug. “I’m not thinking about  _ anything. _ I’m just worrying.” 

“Okay.” Levi pauses. “Did the woman on the phone say anything about Jean’s condition?” 

You tilt your head and look out the window. “Yeah. Yeah, they said he’s gonna be fine. He’s totally stable and all. That’s all she would tell me over the phone. But like, if he’s perfectly fine, he wouldn’t be in the hospital, would he? Why am I being called if he’s totally fine?” You rub the inside of your wrist with your opposite hand. 

“Yeah, of course. That makes sense. I would be worried too if I were in your shoes.” 

You sigh shortly and close your eyes. “I’m just… This is  _ so stressful. _ I mean, I get this call, and Sasha’s not home. And I tried to call Eren to drive me, and he didn’t pick up. Usually I would call Jean, but he’s the one that’s-” You cut yourself off, keeping your gaze firmly pointed out of the car window. 

And Levi tries to let it go. He really does. But it’s silent in the car, and he feels so protective over you, and you’re so fidgety, that he just can’t. “Um… you called Eren before you called me?” 

Your head falls, your chin dipping almost to touch your chest. “Yeah,” you croak. “I’m sorry.” Your shoulders start to shake. 

Levi hears your breathing hitch, and tries to look at both you and the road at the same time, glancing quickly between both. “Hey, hey.” He puts his right hand on your left shoulder. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m not upset.” 

You turn your head to glance briefly at his hand on your shoulder, and in that instant he sees your eyes, red and leaking tears onto your soft cheeks. You face forward, covering half of your face with your hand, and you try to speak through the constant breaks in your voice. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t call- call you first. I th- I thought of Eren first. I’m sorry! Sasha wasn’t there, and E-Eren lives on campus, and I thought of him b-before I thought of you. I’m sorry…” You stop talking then as the tears overtake you and you bury your face in your hands. 

You’re breaking Levi’s heart. He moves his hand to massage the back of your neck. “No. It’s okay. Of course you thought of him first. You’ve known him for so much longer. He’s been friends with both you and Jean for years; I shouldn’t have even-” He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I even said that. It doesn’t matter to me. You did what you felt like you had to do in that moment. It’s not my place at  _ all _ to judge how you deal with a crisis.” 

You wipe your face, sniff, and manage to nod, acknowledging that you heard him. You still won’t look at him. 

“Listen, I’ve dealt with this,” Levi begins. “It… You’re going to be fine. You’ll get there, and a doctor will talk to you, and then they’ll let you see Jean. And you’ll get to talk to him, and then you’ll feel better. Okay?” 

You wipe your eyes again and nod. “Mm-hm.” 

“And I’ll stay with you the whole time. Well…” His confidence falters. “If you want me to. Wherever you want me to be, that’s where I’ll be. Okay?” 

You nod, your breathing steadying. “Okay.” Your eyes meet his for the first time since you got into the car, and the power and raw emotion behind them completely knocks the breath out of his lungs. “Thank you, Levi.” 

He nods. “Of course.” He drops his hand from the back of your neck and takes your hand instead. For the rest of the car ride, you sit in comfortable silence, taking in the changing landscape of the town as you drive in the darkness. 

~~~

You arrive at the hospital feeling much more steady than when you left your apartment. Usually, only a long walk can bring this kind of readiness for an arrival, but this time, your boyfriend’s presence is what’s keeping you steady. Just walking towards the building through the parking lot, you feel as though Levi is projecting a forcefield around the two of you, ready to take down anyone that threatens you, or even dares to speak to you. He’s silent, as are you. Your shared energy seeps into every bit of the cool November air that surrounds you in the darkness. 

When you walk through the doors of the hospital, the harsh fluorescent lights illuminate your skin with a sickly tint. You suddenly realize that you have no idea where you’re going, and you stop dead in your tracks. As your eyes nervously scan the lobby of the hospital, you feel a strong hand grab onto yours in reassurance. You turn to look at Levi, who asks, “Did they tell you what floor he was on?” 

You shake your head. 

“Okay, then we’ll go to reception.” 

“Okay.” 

You spot the reception desk and approach, keeping Levi’s hand in your grasp. The clearly overworked young man at the front desk asks you, “Hi, welcome to St Joseph Medical. What’s your reason for visiting?” 

“Um… I’m visiting a patient.”

“Name?” 

“Jean Kirschtein. That's J-E-A-N, and then Kirschtein is K-I-R-S-C-H-” 

“Okay, Kirschtein. Found him. Now, visiting hours are over. Are you an immediate family member?” 

“Oh. No. Um…” 

Levi cuts in. “She was contacted earlier tonight and was told that she’s his emergency contact.” 

The receptionist nods. “Okay, give me just one second… Alright, can you confirm your name and date of birth?” You do, and the receptionist nods, tight-lipped and affirmative. “Okay, then. Let me just write out a visitor’s pass for you real quick…” He scribbles quickly on a notecard, then inserts it into a clear sleeve attached to a lanyard and hands it to you. “Alright, here you go. Jean Kirchstein is in room 207 on the second floor. Go ahead and put this around your neck and show it to the receptionist on that floor.” He turns to Levi. “It’s fine for you to go up to the second floor with her, but you won’t be allowed to accompany her into the patient’s room.” 

Levi nods. “Okay. Thank you.” 

Levi seems to have been there before and leads you to the elevator. When you get to the second floor, you find reception immediately and approach the desk, more confident this time. This receptionist is a kind-looking older woman in a nurse’s uniform.

“Hi, sweetie. What can I do for you tonight?” 

“I’m visiting a patient, Jean Kirchstein.” You hold up the card strung around your neck.

She nods, a gentle smile on her face. “Yes, I believe we spoke on the phone earlier. You just wait right here, honey.” 

“Okay.” 

The receptionist quickly dials a number, then says into the receiver, “Dr. Joseph, please come to the lobby of the second floor; Dr. Joseph, to the lobby of the second floor.” 

After a couple minutes, a tall, exhausted-looking man in a doctor’s uniform approaches from one of the hallways that you assume holds patients’ rooms. He extends his hand to you, and you accept the handshake as he says, “Hello, my name is Dr. Joseph.” 

You smile very slightly. “Oh, like Dr. Joseph of St Joseph Medical?” 

“It’s a common last name,” he says irritably. You feel Levi tense up slightly next to you. 

“Oh, okay,” you say.

The receptionist leans over her desk. “She’s here visiting the patient in 207. She was his emergency contact.” 

The doctor nods and turns back to you. “Okay, then.” He raises a very official-looking chart and flips a couple pages before continuing. “Mr. Kirchstein has sustained a mild traumatic brain injury, or mTBI, as well as two stable fractures in his third and fourth ribs. At this point, we’ve performed a CT scan as a precaution and are currently administering…” 

The doctor’s words trail off in your mind as you zone out from the stress of his speech. You’re feeling supremely underqualified to be here. For one thing, you don’t fully understand what the doctor is telling you, and for another, you’re a non-family member that was contacted before both of Jean’s parents. Jean’s mom is a nurse, even. You wish that she’d been called instead of you. She could do more for him than you can. 

You’re brought back into the moment by Levi cutting off the doctor’s words. “Hey. Listen, man. I don’t know why you feel like you have to use medical terminology that laypeople can’t understand when you’re speaking to the loved ones of your patients, but I suggest you cut out that narcissistic shit right this fucking second. Now, tell this girl what happened to her friend in words that she’ll understand, or you’re going to be the one with  _ two stable fractures in his third and fourth ribs _ .” 

You look at Levi in surprise, but you can’t quite find it within yourself to be upset with him for threatening the doctor. 

Anyway, the doctor seems largely unfazed, and sighs quickly. He continues slowly in a patronizing tone: “Mr Kirchstein has a mild concussion as well as two broken ribs, and some more mild cuts and bruises. This is nothing too out of the ordinary for a car wreck. We ran a cat-scan and found nothing terribly concerning. We have him on some mild pain medication for now, and we’ll be keeping him overnight for observation just as a precaution.” 

“There, now was that so fucking hard?” Levi growls. 

You ignore him. “Do you know what happened to Jean’s car?” you ask the doctor. 

“I have no idea, but my guess is that it’s been impounded by local police.” The doctor pauses. “You know, maybe it’s not my place to say, but your friend got  _ very _ lucky. Driving erratically without a seatbelt? This could have been a lot worse. And if he  _ had _ been wearing a seatbelt, he probably wouldn’t even have broken ribs right now. I might mention this to him, if I were you.” He turns to the nurse behind the desk. “Miriam, would you show her back to his room?” 

“Of course.” The nurse gets up from her desk chair. “Alright honey, let’s go.” As she approaches the entrance of the hallway, she turns to Levi and says, “Oh, baby, you won’t be allowed back here with her.” 

“Sure,” Levi says to the receptionist, then turns to you. “I could wait around here, if you want?” 

“Yes. Please stay,” you respond without hesitation. 

“Okay, I will. I’ll be right…” he looks around the room, finds a couple folding chairs against a wall, and points to them. “I’ll be sitting right over there, okay?” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

“Of course. Good luck.” Levi drops your hand and you immediately miss his warmth. As the nurse leads you to room 207, your hands clasp together behind you. When you reach the door, she asks you, “Do you think you’re the one that will be picking him up when he gets discharged tomorrow?” 

“Hm… I guess I probably am.” 

“Okay. He’s going to be discharged at 2, so you’ll want to come back then.” 

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” 

She gives you a warm smile. “Of course, honey.” She pats your shoulder. “You can head in whenever you’re ready.” 

The nurse walks away from you, leaving you there in front of the door. Staring at its tremendous door-ness, and its absurdly closed nature, you take a deep breath and try to gather the strength to put your hand on the knob. Your right hand raises, independent of your body, and falls on the door knob. Now that your hand is there, it's just a matter of twisting your wrist and walking through the doorway. When you finally do, there’s Jean in a hospital bed. He glances at you briefly, then looks away, an inexplicable look of shyness on his face. 

At the sight of your friend looking so small and vulnerable, you can feel your senses heightening-- the nerve endings of your skin seem to extend far past the edges of your body, and you feel your heart opening painfully like it’s been sliced with a dull knife. “Hey.” You approach Jean’s bedside, finding a chair up against the wall and pulling it under yourself to sit beside him. “How do you feel?” 

He shrugs, still not looking at you. “I feel okay.” 

You nod. You raise your hand and smack him hard on the shoulder. 

“Ow! What the hell-” 

“You weren’t wearing a seatbelt?” you snap. “What the hell were you thinking?” 

“I wasn’t going that far. I just thought-” 

“You dumb fuck. What were you even doing? Were you texting?” 

Jean scoffs. “No. I just got distracted for, like, a second. It was a freak thing.” 

You sigh and run a hand over your face. “I can’t believe you right now.” 

“You know, generally, when someone gets in a car crash, visitors are expected to be sympathetic,” he says, offended. “I wasn’t expecting a goddamn lecture,  _ Mom _ .” 

You point your finger in his face. “Don’t you fucking call me ‘Mom.’”

“(Y/n), I’m really not in the mood for a scolding right now.” He swats your finger away with the back of his hand. 

You stare at him. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? I was alone in my apartment and I got a call from an unknown number saying that you’re in the hospital. And they wouldn’t even really tell me what happened. And why was I even getting this call? Why was I the one that needed to be contacted? I called Levi, and he dropped everything to bring me to you. I don’t have a car, Jean.” 

“I’m concussed, (y/n),” he interrupts you. “I have two broken ribs. I’m in pain. I thought you might be a little nicer.” 

“Well, if you wanted to be babied, you should have made Marco your emergency contact.” Jean averts his gaze, and your tone softens. “Jean, why am I your emergency contact?” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. My parents live hours away; so do yours.” 

“But why  _ me _ ? You have two roommates.” 

“Because I don’t want-” He sighs. “I just thought about… If something  _ happened _ to me, who would I want to get there first?” He gestures to you. 

You breathe quietly and place your right hand at the space where Jean’s shoulder curves into his neck and squeeze. “Well, I’m here now. And I’m glad you’re okay.” 

Jean nods, his head turned away from you. He glances at you quickly, and you can see tears in his eyes. 

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” 

“I’m  _ scared _ ,” he answers, a frog in his throat. “I got in a fucking car crash. A bystander called an ambulance. My car is fucking wrecked.” 

You take one of his hands in yours. “I know, I know.” 

“And then they fucking brought me  _ here, _ and… And they put me in these machines and did all of these tests. They were wheeling me around on a fucking  _ gurney _ , (y/n). I was in shock, or something. I don’t know. And my fucking neck hurts…” He stifles a sob. 

“I know, honey.” You squeeze the back of his neck and rub his hand gently with your thumb. “But you’re okay. They did all of that, and it turns out that you’re mostly okay.” 

“I  _ know, _ but…” Jean tries to take a deep breath. “But I didn’t know that. And it took such a long time. And I was just  _ alone _ the  _ whole time _ . I mean, I’ve just been sitting here alone in this room for over an hour. They didn’t even tell me that they called you. I-I didn’t even know if anyone was coming or what I was going to do…” His shoulders start to shake. 

“Hey. Shh. It’s okay.” You scratch the short hair of his undercut with your fingers. Jean bows his head and lets the tears fall. “You’re okay now. You’re not alone anymore, okay? I’m here now.” 

Jean nods. “I was just… so scared…” 

“I know.” You melt. “Oh, honey. Come here.” You lean over Jean’s bed and pull him into a big bear hug, careful not to move him too much lest you increase the pain in his ribs. Jean buries his face in the soft fabric of your hoodie, which is starting to get damp with tears. You place one hand on the back of his head and gently rub at his upper back with the other. 

After a few minutes, he retreats and wipes his face with the back of his hand, his breath steadying. “Oh, fuck.” Jean shakes his head and then looks at you. “Not a word about this.” 

You smile and nod. “Okay. No problem.” 

“I’m serious. Not a word. Not Sasha, not Armin,  _ especially  _ not Eren. Not even your stupid boyfriend. Okay?” 

You laugh good-naturedly. “Okay, okay. My lips are sealed. No one will ever know that you have feelings.” 

Jean nods seriously. “Good.” 

After a beat, you ask, “So did the doctor say about any precautions you have to take?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, he said I have to wear a brace for a few weeks for my ribs. And for the concussion I just have to stay away from screens for a while, basically. And I can’t drive, of course.” He chuckles wryly. “Not that I could anyway, because my car is pretty much wrecked.” 

You laugh. “Well, that’s not too bad, though. About the brace and the screens and all.” 

“Yeah. And then I’m supposed to do a follow-up appointment a month from now.” 

“Okay. And the nurse said you’re getting discharged tomorrow at 2?” 

“Mm-hm.” 

“Okay. I’ll be back then to pick you up. And I’ll stop by your apartment on the way and get you some fresh clothes. So I guess I’ll get here a little early.” 

“Okay.” Jean nods, and then looks at you. “Thank you.”  
“Of course. Hey, are you hungry? I could run out and get you some good food?” 

Jean shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t really feel like eating, and if I do later, they’ll feed me here. Besides, I think you’re probably ready to go.” 

You tilt your head. “Why am I ready to go?” 

He snorts. “You said that you called Levi and he brought you here, right?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Well, I don’t think he dropped you off, did he? I think he’s sitting out there in the lobby, waiting for you, right?” 

You roll your eyes. “Perhaps.” 

Jean nods, blinking slowly. “Yeah, I think you should go now.” 

“I don’t want to leave you here, though.” You pinch his cheek affectionately. 

He grimaces. “Cut that shit out. Alright, listen. I don’t need you to stay here, okay? You visited. You did your job.” 

“You said you didn’t want to be alone, though. I should stay here and keep you company.” 

“Enough,” Jean snaps good-naturedly. “I’m sleepy anyway. And I’m a legal adult, right? So if I press the call button, a nurse will come here and remove you if I tell her I don’t want you here.” 

“Oh, my God.” You roll your eyes. “Fine. Jesus. You don’t have to tell on me.” You stand to leave. “I’ll be back to get you tomorrow. Oh, and do you want me to call anyone? Your parents? Marco?” 

“Nah. I’ll call them myself when I get home tomorrow.”

“Okay. Well, I’m out of here, I guess.” You point a finger at him teasingly. “You be good, okay? Behave.” 

“I’ll do my best. I mean…” He gestures to the hospital bed he’s laying on. “What trouble could I possibly get into? Now, get out of here.” 

When you close the door behind you, you take a moment to take a big, deep breath. You’re coming down from the tremendous adrenaline rush that carried you here and into Jean’s room, since the hardest part is now over. When you cross back into the lobby of the second floor, there’s Levi waiting for you, just where he said he’d be. He sees you right away and stands to meet you. 

“Hey. Everything okay?” 

You nod. “Yeah. He’s…” You decide to keep your promise and not tell Levi about Jean’s emotions, at least for the time being. “He’s in rare form, but he’s fine. And I’m coming back tomorrow to pick him up after he’s discharged.” 

“Okay. Am I driving you again?” 

You shake your head and wave your hand. “No, no. I don’t want to put you out like that. I’m sure I can get someone else to drive me.” 

“What time should I pick you up?” 

You smile. “12:30 would be great.” 

“I’ll be there. Alright, let’s get out of here.” 

Levi takes you by the hand and leads you out of the hospital and back to his car in the parking lot. Once you’re on the road again, you say, “Hey, listen. Thanks for… all this. You didn’t have to, and… it’s nice.” 

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” A half-smile twitches at his lips. “I mean, I wasn’t doing anything, so why wouldn’t I? You needed help. That’s what I’m here for.” 

You nod thoughtfully. “You seemed like you really knew what you were doing.” 

“Yeah, well… I have a bit of experience with hospital visits and the like.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah.” He hesitates. “With my mom.” 

“Oh.” You look meekly at your hands folded in your lap. “You know, you never told me how she died.” 

Levi shrugs. “I don’t talk about it much.” He glances at you. “Why? Do you want to know?” 

“Well, yeah.” You smile nervously. “Just because… She’s your mom, and you loved her and stuff. I like knowing about you.” You shake your head. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to talk about it.” 

“No, it’s okay. Um… it was cancer. Pancreatic.” 

Even though you didn’t know the woman, and the event is long over, your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach. “Oh.” 

“Yeah. They didn’t catch it until late. It all happened pretty fast. Maybe three or four months after she was diagnosed.” 

“Oh, wow. That’s awful. So, during all that, you were just…” 

He tilts his head. “Doing my thing. School. And then most days I’d come here after and hang out with her while I did my homework. I had a neighbor that drove me.”

“Oh. That was nice of them.” 

Levi nods. “Yeah. It was… Anyway, after she passed, I went to my dad and all. He didn’t really have a choice in taking me. Honestly, if he’d had the choice, I think he might have tried to pawn me off on some obscure relative. Well… I bet he still could have if he’d really wanted to. But even so.” 

“When she died, were you the one that had to deal with the funeral and everything?” 

“Yeah, I was. My dad paid for everything, but I… did the planning, yeah. He and Isabel just came around for the funeral itself and took me back to Philly after.” 

“Isabel’s mom didn’t come along?” 

He laughs sharply. “No. That woman despises me.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.” 

“No, it is. She was fine with me before, but then when she started having to keep me in her house… Nah. She didn’t like that.” 

“What was she like?” 

“Who? Isabel’s mom?” 

“No, your mom. What was she like? Before, I mean.” 

“Oh, yeah. Um… I don’t know. She was really… self-sufficient. Strong, but kind. Warm. She wore her heart on her sleeve. And she wasn’t perfect, of course. She was a person like anyone else. But, honestly…” he looks at you. “You kind of remind me of her.” 

You half-smile. “Really?” 

“Mm-hm.” 

“Wow.” Your smile fades. “I’m really sorry that happened to you.” 

He shrugs. “Eh. It was a long time ago.” 

“She’s still dead, though,” you say awkwardly. 

Levi stifles a wry laugh. “That’s very true.” 

By the time you get back to your apartment, the conversation has transitioned into light-hearted banter, and you’re both smiling. Yours fades, though, when the car comes to a halt, and you say, “Oh. Sasha won’t be there when I get upstairs. I forgot.” 

For a few moments, silence. Then, Levi gently says, “You don’t want to be alone, do you?” 

“I really, really don’t,” you say quietly. Even though Jean is fine, you’re still pretty emotionally rattled. 

“I could come up, if you want.”

“Oh, no. Not if you don’t want to. I’m fine, really. I’m okay.” 

“Yeah, I’m coming up,” he says, already starting to park the car. “Besides, if I go home now, I’ll just be listening to Farlan complain about his needy patients for like, an hour. And… I will also feel better if you’re not all alone tonight.” 

When you get back to your apartment, you’re pretty hungry, but nobody feels like cooking, so you end up eating some yogurt, fruit, and crackers that were hiding around in your kitchen. Levi is quite a fantastic companion in a crisis. He treats you very gently, but doesn’t patronize you, and does his best to keep the mood light. You find yourself hoping that he’ll decide to crash here, thinking of how nice it would be to wake up tomorrow morning with him already there to help you through the day. 

As evening fades into night, you fade into each other, eventually landing on your couch. You’re sitting half-up and reading a book and Levi is lying face-down, half on top of you with his arms around your waist and the side of his face pressed into your sternum. He’s not asleep, but his eyes are closed, and he’s in a sort of relaxed stupor, mostly dead to the world. He removes an arm from around you to reach and take one of your hands from your book, pulling it to his mouth and giving it a kiss. He’s dead to all the world, yes-- but awake only to you. 

You move your book away from your face to look at him as he keeps your hand in his but settles his head back down below your chest. You place your book down on the coffee table behind you, and then poke his face with your free hand. He tilts his head away from your finger and opens his eyes. Looking up at you, Levi looks so small and gentle. “What?” he says. 

Rather than respond with words, you run your hand through his bangs, brushing them to the side. He leans into your touch and holds your gaze. Slowly, he lifts his weight off of you and maneuvers to kiss you deeply on the mouth. You put both of your hands in his hair as he props himself up by his elbows to balance.

You’re feeling very emotionally raw from the events of the day, or rather, night, but you’re not tired. On the contrary, you’re quite awake. And despite the way that your heart feels like it’s been given a deep tissue massage, all you can think of is how Levi has been there for you today. Nothing could make you trust him, and  _ want _ him, more. And his hands are on you, and his mouth is on you, but it’s not enough. Merely touching you is not enough. You want more-- you  _ need  _ more. You need everything. 

You grip into his hair and pull his face just an inch away from yours. “Levi,” you whisper. 

“What’s up?” His grey eyes bore into you with intensity. 

You meet his gaze. “I’m…” your eyes flicker away, then back to him. “I think I’m ready.” 

“Ready? Ready for what?” You furrow your brows at him in consternation, but before you can say anything, he says, “Oh! Oh. Right. My God, I forgot you were a virgin.” 

You laugh, loudly and deeply, throwing your head back. “You are so dumb at night.” 

“Oh, give me a break.” He pecks your lips. “Hey.” Peck. “Are you sure?” Peck. “You’ve kind of…” Peck. “Been through a lot today.” Peck, peck, peck, all over your face. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” you say through a giggling smile. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” 

Without further ado, Levi very seductively flies off the couch and whisks you into your bedroom, guiding you gently onto your back under your covers. He’s on top of you in an instant, gripping your hair and kissing you hungrily. He plants kisses on your jawline, your ear, your neck, and then sits up, his legs straddling your hips, to throw off his shirt. You unceremoniously wriggle free of your own, revealing a simple gray bralette. Levi comes back down to you, kissing and nipping at the exposed skin of your breasts and you moan. 

He’s moving quickly, and you’re not sure what to do with yourself. Your hands grab aimlessly at his back and the back of his head, enjoying the feel of the muscles underneath his skin. Levi’s hand is trailing up your waist and around your back as he grinds his hips into yours. You can already feel him hardening. You reach your hand down and squeeze him, earning you a breathy moan that reverberates through his mouth and into the skin of your breasts. He lifts his head to kiss you again, his tongue pushing yours around in your mouth. When he speaks, he holds his face so close to yours that you can feel the breath of his words on your lips. 

Levi slips his hands under the waistband of your sweatpants. “I want you… to turn your brain off. Relax.” Your sweatpants are around your ankles and you kick them off. “I’ll do all the work.” He starts to take off his own pants. “All I’m here for is to make you feel good.” His pants are off; you can see in your periphery the tent in his boxers. “Just relax…” His hand slips into your underwear. “And breathe into your body.” 

As soon as his fingers make contact with your folds, you let out a soft whimper and shut your eyes. His words are melting you from the inside out and generating slick where his fingers explore. He knows your body by now-- his fingers traverse you, knowledgeable of the terrain. When he slips a single finger into you, you’re so wet and loose that you almost don’t feel it until it bucks into your g-spot, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit. The motions are slow, tantalizing. Your hips writhe under the contact. 

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe. Levi’s face is still just above your own, but you don’t kiss him. You’d rather look in his face as your mouth hangs open and your breathing becomes shallow. Your arms throw themselves around him and you dig your fingers into his upper back as he slips another finger inside of you. These two go deep-- now the whole of his palm, not just the heel, is massaging deeply into your clit and the area that surrounds. He increases his speed as his other hand grips your breast firmly, his thumb rolling over your hardened nipple beneath the fabric of your bralette. 

“Just-” you whisper, not bothering to finish your sentence as you grab at your bralette to get it off. Levi finishes the job for you, momentarily taking his hands away from you to pull it over your head and toss it aside. You dig your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and shimmy your hips. Levi finishes this for you as well, smoothly pulling your panties down, off, and away from your legs. He plunges his fingers back into you immediately, causing you to moan deeply and throw your hand over your mouth. Somehow, the momentary lapse in contact has made the sensation that much more intense. Levi does not return to your face, but instead moves down to press his tongue into your clit and his lips all around you, already licking you aggressively. You can’t stifle the moaning words that fall from your mouth. “Oh, my God, Levi.  _ Fuck _ .” 

At hearing his name, Levi pushes a third finger inside of you. You’re being filled now, and every inch of your body is on fire with the sensations coursing through your veins. You’re quickly approaching climax. “Fuck. Fuck, Levi. I’m gonna… Fuck, I’m gonna cum…” 

Levi groans deeply, the vibrations of his vocal cords coursing into your clit, and this, along with the now furious digging of his fingers into your g spot, sends you over the edge. You moan from the back of your throat, your back arching and your legs spasming from your orgasm. Levi does not let you ride the waves of your orgasm this time, instead removing his hand from you a bit too soon, and you whimper at the loss. Your clit is still pulsating and aching for stimulation. Luckily, your partner does not plan on leaving you empty for long. Levi jerks off his boxers, his throbbing erection springing free as he says, “Do you have a condom?” 

“I’m sure Sasha does, but…” You shake your head. “I’m on the pill.” 

“Okay.” He jerks his cock with one hand, pushing your knee aside with the other. Your other knee follows suit, and you can feel your opening twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Levi lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance, just barely making contact. He leans over you, his face inches from yours once again, propping himself up with his elbow on the bed on one side. He looks straight into your eyes, mouth slightly agape, waiting for your O-K. 

Your eyes boring into him, you nod. Levi exhales slowly, not averting his eyes as he slowly but forcefully pushes his cock inside of your hot, slick pussy. You gasp deeply and your jaw juts out as your eyes slam shut. Your virginity has left the building. If you thought that his fingers were filling you up before, this is nothing compared to the sensation of being stretched open by his cock. Even so, you can feel yourself naturally adjusting to his size as your toes curl, and you start to pant even though he isn’t moving yet. After a few seconds, you open your eyes to find him still staring into your face. You nod again, indicating that it’s okay for him to move now. 

And he does, with aching restraint-- slowly pulling out to the tip, and sliding back in. After a few strokes, it’s a slip-n-slide situation down there, and you can hear it in the air. Also in the air is the sharp smell of it-- arousal like you’ve never experienced it before. “Faster,” you breathe. 

Levi complies, picking up the pace of his thrusts just slightly. Your head is tilting back rhythmically each time his hips collide with yours. Your legs are draped loosely around his hips, your hands holding against his shoulder blades as he fucks you. It’s all so much-- his breath on your neck, the heat of his skin against yours, the feel of his cock filling you up. So much, and yet not enough, just yet. “Levi, please,” you say raggedly. “Fuck me harder.” 

He obeys immediately, not only speeding things up but also slamming into your further than you’d previously thought he could go. And it’s just what the doctor ordered. You groan deeply, your eyes falling shut momentarily. Levi lifts himself up from you somewhat, now placing his hands on either side of your shoulders and straightening his arms to look down at you, his mouth hanging open. He’s not just pistoning in and out of you-- he’s fucking you with an upward flick of his hips, thrusting the tip of his dick into your g-spot with each motion, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. Despite the flush of your skin, your muscles feel totally relaxed, subconsciously submitting to the act. 

Your hands, mirroring each other up past your head on your pillow, are repeatedly clenching and unclenching in fists. Your hands want contact. Without really thinking, you deliver them to Levi’s shoulders, digging your nails into the skin. He gasps, falling back down with his face in your neck. Your hands grip and scratch at the skin of his back as he sucks and bites at the soft skin of your neck. It’s so much. Too much. 

“Fuck, Levi… I’m gonna cum again…” 

He groans deeply. “Me too. God, you’re so fucking wet. Feels so good…” 

This orgasm builds differently from the last one. The first one was all surface, all clit. This one you can feel starting from inside. It feels like your entire abdomen relaxes, then ever-so-slowly starts to clench. You’re mewling in time with Levi’s now-scattered thrusts. You feel that your orgasm is about to completely overtake you as Levi buries his cock deep inside you, giving a loud, sharp moan just beside your ear. This sound sends you over the edge, and you feel the walls of your pussy clench around him as a tidal wave of pleasure slams over your entire body. You’re cumming for several seconds as you feel Levi’s hot cum pouring out deep inside you, your legs wrapped firmly around his hips to hold him in place. 

Your orgasm finally releases and your legs relax as Levi practically collapses away from you to land on his back next to you. “Holy fuck, (y/n).” 

Still breathing heavily, you shake your head. “Levi, that was incredible.” You allow your breathing to slow, then turn your head to face him. He’s staring blankly at the ceiling and looks like he could really use a Gatorade. You roll over to lay on your stomach, draping an arm across his chest. 

Levi’s expression changes suddenly and he squints. “Goddamn.” 

“What?” 

“Thank  _ fuck _ Eren didn’t pick up when you called him.” 

You burst out laughing, but this does not stop you from swatting Levi’s face with the back of your hand. “Thank fuck, indeed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter im posting on sunday is the last one in "part one" of this story. i'll move into part two within the same work so it doesn't get confusing but basically on sunday we'll reach the end of the first arc of this story. and after that i think i might be going back to a once-weekly publishing schedule since my semester starts soon but i haven't made a final decision yet. i'll let y'all know about that on sunday. thank you all so much for reading. creating this is a bright spot in my life and you all make it even better. much love <3


	15. Winter Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy sunday!! nighttime publisher kay has re-entered the chat lol. this chapter reads like the season finale of a sitcom that the writers know isn't getting picked up for a second season but i don't even care. it's full of comedy and fluff so i hope you enjoy. no smut in this chapter so if you've been avoiding it don't worry about it. have fun!

You’re sitting on your couch in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, swaddled under a blanket. On your thighs is your laptop, and strewn about you are two textbooks, a composition book, and countless loose papers in varying states of crumple. You’ve been studying for almost two hours now, but you know you’re still nowhere close to being ready for your final exam in a few days. Organic Chemistry can be a serious bitch. 

You’re just about at the end of your rope with this course material when Sasha emerges from her bedroom with a sense of purpose. “Do you own a Santa costume?” 

“No, I don’t. Sorry.” You look up. “Why?” 

“What about your dad? Do you think your parents have one?” 

You shake your head. “No.” 

Sasha sighs exasperatedly. “I knew it was a long shot…” 

“Why do you need a Santa costume, Sasha?” 

“I don’t  _ need  _ one, I just thought that it might be a good addition. I have a  _ big _ idea.” She sees the pile of academia that you’re sitting on. “But if you’re studying, I can tell you about it later. I don’t want to distract you.” 

You slam your laptop shut. “No. Please distract me. I’m dying. What’s your big idea?” 

Sasha crosses to crouch next to the couch. “Well, you know how finals are really stressful?” 

You blink. “Yes?” 

“Well, I was thinking, now that we’ve got our own apartment, we could totally throw a little party to celebrate once they’re done. And I was thinking that since it’s December and all, it could be a holiday party. You know: ugly sweaters, cookies, eggnog, maybe some of Jean’s famous sangria…” 

“God save us all, that fucking  _ sangria _ .” You shake your head. “That sounds like a great idea, though. Who did you want to be Santa?” 

“I hadn’t decided yet. I guess whoever wants to. I would do it, but I don’t want anyone sitting on my lap besides Connie. He gets jealous. I just thought it would be fun to have someone dress up like Santa.” 

“Totally. Well, we could always rent a Santa suit. Might be a little expensive so close to Christmas, but maybe it’s worth it?” 

“Worth it. Definitely worth it. I’ll make some calls.” 

With this, Sasha retreats back into her bedroom, and you begrudgingly get back to your studies. 

~~~

Two days later, you’re in your kitchen with Levi attempting to make stained glass cookies. There’s flour, sugar, and crushed Jolly Ranchers strewn about the countertops in a very unprofessional fashion. The dough has been completed and the cookies have been cut, so all that’s left is arranging hard candy bits in the centers of the unbaked cookies. 

“Green and red aren’t going to blend well, you know. It’s going to turn all brown,” Levi deadpans, observing the uncouth color combination you’ve got going on with your current cookie. 

“But Green Apple and Cherry are my favorite flavors. And green and red are Christmas colors. I think it’s good. Yours are boring.” 

“They’re practical.” Most of his cookies are single colors, but there’s one or two that combine blue and green. “They’re called stained glass cookies. They’re supposed to be pretty, I think. They’re supposed to look like stained glass. You’re the one that suggested we do this. Why are we even doing this if you aren’t going to make it the way the recipe says? Baking is a science. You have to-  _ hey! _ ” 

While Levi was talking, you gathered up some stray flour and just threw it at his torso, getting it all over his shirt. You giggle and dart away playfully as he lunges to grab you around your middle. 

His front pressed into your back, Levi grabs onto a handful of your hair and pulls, jerking your head to the side and exposing your neck to his face. “Oh, you’re gonna  _ get _ it,” he growls into your ear and nibbles at the soft skin of your neck. 

You smile. “Ohh, have I been a  _ bad girl? _ ” you say in a joking, throaty whisper. 

Levi laughs heartily and releases his grip on your hair. His other arm still wrapped around you, you turn around to grab the front of his shirt with both hands and give him a kiss. 

You two have been pretty much joined at the hip for the past few weeks. Something about him rushing to your side in an emergency, protecting and emotionally supporting you through the whole thing, and then fucking your brains out that evening (not to mention that he also took your virginity) has made your relationship very strong. Go figure. 

You have to pull your face away from his when you hear the front door open. You were already expecting Sasha when she walks past the kitchen, but Eren and Jean behind her are a total surprise-- and a somewhat unwelcome one at that. 

“You know what you have to do, Sasha!” Jean orders. “Do the right thing.” 

“Oh, the  _ right _ thing?” Eren shouts. “You pompous ass-face!” 

“Both of you, shut up! I’ve had it! I didn’t invite you in here! Leave now!” Sasha yells at both of them, almost sounding like she’s on the verge of tears. 

You call out to the hurricane blowing through your apartment: “What the hell is happening?” All three of them approach the kitchen, talking over each other. You can’t understand a word they’re saying, or rather, screaming. You put up a hand and shout over them: “One at a fucking time!  _ Sasha _ , what’s going on?” 

Sasha inhales sharply. “I’m sorry they came in here, (y/n). I didn’t want them to. We were at dinner and I started telling them about my holiday party idea and I said how I wanted there to be a Santa, and they both want to do it, and I told them I would need some time to think about it, but they won’t leave me alone.” 

“I called it!” Eren immediately asserts. “I called it right away!” 

“You really think that something of this magnitude should be decided based on  _ dibs _ ?” Jean crows. 

“The rules of dibs are very clear. If you cared more, you would have called it first.” 

“Okay, okay.” You wave your hand to silence them. “How about this: if you both provide your own Santa suits, maybe you can both be Santa?” 

The boys scoff in perfect unison. “What is this, amateur hour?” Eren says. 

“Yeah, what the hell are you talking about, (y/n)?” Jean concurs. “Who ever heard of two Santas at one Christmas party?” 

As the dissent accumulates, you’re flabbergasted by the bizarre energy of the room. You glance next to you at Levi with a look that says,  _ Can you believe this shit? _

Levi shakes his head at you, amused and biting back a smile. 

Sasha cuts in. “Look, guys, I’m really tired and I have stuff to do. Can you please just get out of here and I’ll let you know what I decide?” 

They both shake their heads as Eren says, “No. No. I’m staying here to make my case.” 

“I have nothing to do,” Jean says. “I’m here all night.” 

Sasha honestly looks like she’s about to burst into flames, so you decide to intervene further. “Well, why _ don’t _ you make your case, then? Maybe each of you could say a few words about why you think you should be Santa? And then the three of us...” you gesture to yourself, Sasha, and Levi. “We’ll take a vote to decide. That’s fair, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t think that’s fair at all!” Eren whines. “Are you serious? Jean is your  _ best friend _ . And call me crazy, but I don’t think your  _ boyfriend _ is going to vote for  _ me _ .” 

“You could address me, Eren,” Levi says neutrally. “I’m standing right here.” 

“I thought  _ I _ was her best friend,” Sasha says quietly. 

“Oh my God…” you say under your breath. 

“Why wouldn’t I vote for you, Eren?” Levi inquires. “I have no personal vendetta against you. Why should I?” 

“Wh- I mean…” Eren scoffs and gestures vaguely in your direction. 

“Very articulate. Don’t flatter yourself, brat.” Levi smoothly slips a hand into the opposite back pocket of your jeans. “You were no competition. I promise I’m equally irritated by both you and your opponent.” 

“Perfect!” Sasha chirps. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road. Eren, why don’t you go first?” 

Eren takes a deep breath and a ceremonious step forward. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury…” Jean is already rolling his eyes. “I feel that my claim to the title of Santa Claus is simple. First, I already have access to the costume. Additionally, I have already been Santa once before-- I dressed up for a neighborhood Christmas party last year, and if I may, I got great reviews from the kids.” 

Hiding his mouth behind a hand, Jean calls out: “Booooooooo! Weeeeeeird!” 

“To sum up, I believe that I have the experience and the resources necessary to do the job well. Thank you for your time.” 

Sasha claps politely as you say, “Alright, Jean, your response?” 

Jean takes on a cocky smile. “Roommates and boyfriends, do not allow yourselves to be swayed by the ramblings of this lunatic. Let’s not forget what kind of guy he is. Eren is completely commercial. The holiday season is about togetherness and spirit. My opponent does not understand the true meaning of Christmas.” 

“Oh, what is this, a Hallmark movie? You’re making me sick, Kirschtein!” Eren heckles. 

Jean ignores him. “By comparison, I’m sure you all can plainly see that I am the superior choice. And may I remind you, I recently went through a  _ near-death experience. _ ” Even you roll your eyes. He’s been milking that accident since it happened to get anything he wants. “I will be able to provide the proper Claus character at this most esteemed holiday party. I think you will find that your guests, who have been burnt out by finals week, will find comfort in my interpretation of Santa Claus.” 

“Wrap it up!” you call from behind your hand. 

“Thank you for listening, everyone-- vote Kirschtein.” 

“Alright, let’s get to the vote!” You clasp your hands. “A majority of two approves, no one may abstain. Honorable delegate Braus, how do you vote?” 

“Eren. He already has a suit, and I don’t want to pay for one.” 

“Delegate Braus votes Jaeger. Delegate Ackerman, how do you vote?” 

“I feel like I need more context before I make a decision. What party is this? I haven’t heard about it.” 

“Sasha had an idea that we could host a holiday party to celebrate finals being over,” you explain. “I’ve mostly been letting her do the planning and all, and I was going to ask you along once she told me what day it is.” You turn to Sasha. “Have you decided, by the way?” 

“Yeah, I was thinking Friday the 18th?” 

You turn to Levi again. “Can you make it?” 

“I think so… Oh wait, I was supposed to have dinner with Farlan and Isabel that night.” 

“Well, we were going to serve food,” Sasha says. “You could invite them along, if you want?” 

Your face lights up and you tap at Levi’s shoulder as you chatter, “Oh my God, invite them! Please? I would totally love to hang out with them again. Please? Please-please-please? Oh my God. Can you invite Hanji too? She’s so cool. And Mikasa, of course. She’s your family! Oh, please? Please, Levi?” 

“Holy shit, brat. Fine. I’ll ask all them along.” 

“Let’s get back to the vote,” Jean cuts in. “Come on, Levi. Be a pal.” 

“Wait a minute,” Eren interrupts. “Mikasa’s gonna go to this thing?” 

You cringe. “Oh. You know what, she doesn’t have to. I mean, if that would be uncomfortable for you.” 

Eren waves you off. “No, no, it’s fine. Um…” His eyes wander. “You know what? Delegates, I’d like to respectfully withdraw my name from consideration.” 

Sasha looks aghast. “What? Why?” 

Eren shakes his head. “Yeah, I just think maybe I don’t want to wear a fake belly after all. Doesn’t seem like my kind of thing. Doesn’t sound like fun. You know what? Jean can even borrow my costume.” 

Jean pumps his fist. “Well, glad to see you’ve come to your senses, Jaeger.” 

“Tis the season, horse face. Well, I’m outta here. Thanks for your consideration, everyone.” With this, Eren makes a dignified exit. 

After he’s gone, you say, “What the hell just happened?” 

Levi sighs deeply, almost painfully. “Nothing good.” 

“What, so he’s going for Mikasa again?” Sasha says. 

Jean shrugs. “Well,  _ someone  _ should.” 

Levi makes a sound that’s half groan, half growl and then retreats back to the cookie counter. 

“Well, Jean, I look forward to your interpretation of Santa Claus,” Sasha says. 

“Yeah…” Jean rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Actually, I’m not sure I want to do it either now.” 

“ _ What? _ ” Sasha barks. 

“I don’t know! It just feels sort of hollow now that I’m not stealing it away from Eren. Besides, I don’t know if I want to wear some gross sweaty Santa suit Eren’s had for God knows how long.” 

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “So you’re not doing it?” 

“Yeah, no. Sorry Sasha.” 

Sasha sighs painfully and covers her face with both hands, mumbling as she walks into living room: “I got fucking chased around campus for an hour and now I don’t even have a Santa…” She throws herself down on the couch. 

“Alright,” you sigh. “Get out, Jean.” 

“Huh? Why?” 

“I’m serious. It’s time for you to go.” 

“Alright, fine. I was leaving anyway.” He starts to meander toward the door, but pauses. “Can I have a Jolly Rancher?” 

You stick your hand in the bag. “Blue razz?” 

“Yes.” 

You hand him two for good measure. 

“Thank you~!” 

“I hate you!” you shout after him as he walks out the door. Then to Levi, you say, “Well, that was interesting.” 

“Understatement of the year. Are you done defiling your cookies?” 

You giggle. “Yes.” As Levi puts the two cookie trays in the oven, you go on, “You know, if you want to keep Eren away from Mikasa, you could always just not invite her to the thing.” 

“Yeah, but not really, though. If she found out I was responsible for keeping her away from Eren, there would be hell to pay. Even if I didn’t ask Hanji either, if Isabel comes, Hanji will find out since they text each other all the fucking time, and she’ll tell Mika, and then everyone’s gonna get mad at me. You know, I kind of think they all have a group chat to keep tabs on me. All three of them are always weirdly on the same page. And it’s not like I can’t invite Isabel. She keeps pestering me about when she’s going to hang out with you again.” 

“Aw, that’s sweet,” you coo. “Well, maybe Eren’s intentions are pure. Maybe he regrets breaking up with her and actually wants to get back together, or something.” 

Levi turns to you. “Look me in the eyes and say that again.” 

You hold his gaze. “It’s possible!” Levi rolls his eyes. 

“It’s possible!” Sasha echoes from the living room. “Also, Levi, you are required to wear an ugly Christmas sweater, as is the rest of your party.” 

“I’ll let them know,” he calls out, then turns back to you. “You know, I actually don’t think I have a Christmas sweater, though.” 

“Really? How do you get past age 30 and not have one?” 

Levi shrugs. “Never had a reason to, I guess. What with the lack of Christianity and all.” 

“Oh, right. Atheist.” 

He looks quizzically at you. “Well, I am now, but I usually still tell people that I’m Jewish.” 

You furrow your brows. “Why do you tell people you’re Jewish?” 

“Um… maybe because I am?” 

“What? No, you’re not.” 

“Yeah, I am. I thought you knew that.” 

“How would I know that? You’ve never even mentioned it before.” 

“Well, most people know just based on my name.” 

You tilt your head at him. 

He’s trying really hard not to laugh at you. “Levi Ackerman? My name is incredibly Jewish. You seriously didn’t think of that?” 

“No, I didn’t.” You shrug. “Well, damn. I guess… we’ll just have to go thrifting for an ugly Christmas sweater, then. I mean, if you’re cool with wearing one at all.” 

“I literally could not give less of a shit about the religious affiliation of the thing, but I would really like to not wear a brightly colored ugly sweater to a social function.” 

You grin. “Well, that’s too bad, because you’re going to.” 

“Hm. Well, what if I said that I  _ do _ care about the religious affiliation of the thing?” 

“Nope. Too late. Cat’s out of the bag. We’re going thrift shopping, Macklemore.” 

Levi rolls his eyes. “Oh, brother.” 

You take this as acceptance. “Yay! Thank you.” You prance over to him to give him a peck on the nose. 

He wraps his hands around the small of your back to pull your hips against his. You place both your palms on his chest as he says, “Tis the fucking season, brat.” 

~~~

The holiday party rolls around pretty quickly. Between the last couple final exams you had to take and all of the anticipation for it, the days have just flown by. And now, on this beautiful Friday evening, it’s started to snow. The flakes are dancing in a crowded rave through the big windows of your apartment as you sip a mug of spiked hot chocolate. This is the most comfortable you’ve felt all year-- you’re in a big Christmas sweater that says “up to  _ snow _ good,” your stretchiest, comfiest pair of jeans, red and white striped fuzzy socks, and a Santa hat, and the spiked cocoa has just enough alcohol and chocolate in it to completely relax and satisfy you. The common area of your apartment, including the kitchen and living room, has fairy lights strung all along the walls, as well as strings of paper snowflakes that you and Sasha have been generating for the past few days. Floating through the air are the smells of sugar, peppermint, and pizza, as well as the sounds of a Christmas playlist you put together. 

As you look out the window, food is being prepared in the kitchen. The boyfriends, Levi and Connie, have now been here for an hour to help set things up, and they’re both getting ordered around by Sasha as the last few plates of snacks and treats are prepared. You were also ordering them around before you’d decided to step away for just a moment to take a break. Turning away from the window, you watch from a distance as Sasha swats Levi’s hand away when he tries to rearrange the cookies into a pattern that he thinks is more pleasing. You smile. They’re both so important to you, and it’s just lovely to watch them get along with each other. You feel like your life is coming together more smoothly than it ever has. 

There’s a knock at the door. “Shit! Someone’s early,” Sasha yells from the kitchen. “I’m not fucking dressed yet. (Y/n), get the door! I’ll be back out in a minute!” She vanishes into her bedroom and you make your way past the kitchen, where Connie is now making sure that Levi doesn’t mess with the cookies that Sasha swatted him away from. You open the door, and there’s Jean and Marco, hand in hand with big smiles on their faces. 

“Oh, hi!” You coo, throwing one arm around each of their necks to pull them into a three-person hug. 

“Hi, (y/n),” they say in unison, and Marco kisses your cheek. 

You pull back from the hug and say, “Well, come in. You’re the first ones here, so we’re still getting things going.” You give the couple a once-over. “You look really cute, guys.” 

“We’re wearing matching sweaters,” Jean says. Both sweaters are red and covered in printed white snowflakes; Jean’s says ‘Naughty’ and Marco’s says ‘Nice’. 

“I can see that.” You clasp your hands together. “Well. I can get you guys spiked nog or cocoa if you want.” 

“Oooh, yes please,” Jean says, rubbing his hands together as he comes into the apartment. 

“Excuse me. I don’t think so!” Marco says, kicking his shoes off. 

“Oh, come on! Just a little is fine,” Jean whines. 

“No. It’s not been a month yet.” After Jean got into the crash, Marco became a very dutiful caretaker, even though he doesn’t really have much expertise. According to his internet research, Jean shouldn’t have anything alcoholic to drink for a month after the accident, due to the concussion and the pain pills prescribed for his broken ribs. 

“Come on, Marco. It’s Christmas,” Jean pouts.

“No, it’s not. It’s December 18th. Look, I won’t drink either. Okay?” 

“Okay…” Jean mumbles. Marco approaches, kisses his cheek, and scratches under his chin with two fingers before passing him into the kitchen. You’re left there looking at an extremely blushy Jean. 

He notices you looking at him. “What?” You smile at him. “Shut your fucking face,” he says. 

“I didn’t say anything,” you giggle. “I just think it’s nice, that’s all.” If Jean wasn’t completely weak in the knees for Marco before the accident, he sure is now. You think that the whole thing scared the hell out of both of them, and it caused some kind of chemical reaction that’s made them virtually inseparable ever since. 

Over the course of the next hour, guests trickle in at a steady pace, each wearing a Christmas sweater with varying levels of silliness. Next to arrive are Eren and Armin, the latter of whom is wearing reindeer antlers. After them is Isabel and Farlan with a bottle of Irish Creme. Hanji and Mikasa arrive last, the former very eager, and the latter looking like she’d received a lecture moments ago about acting pleasant. You’re happy to see all of them. 

The evening begins to pass in a haze of music and cookies, not unlike the flurries of snow still swirling around outside. You take a lot of pictures on your phone-- there’s one of Sasha sitting in Connie’s lap, in which they are biting opposite ends of one cookie; there’s another of Armin squirting whipped cream from a can directly into Eren’s mouth; there’s three blurry ones of Isabel falling over while trying to give Farlan a piggy back ride; there’s one that Jean took of you, Hanji, and Isabel all putting butterfly clips in Levi’s hair that have little jingle bells attached. 

Four cookies and two alcoholic holiday drinks into the evening, you’re reveling in both a buzz and a sugar high, as are most of your guests. Most of them are congregated in the living room with flushed cheeks, both from the booze and the heat of their sweaters. You’re sitting on the couch next to Levi. His left arm is around your shoulders, and your head is leant against his chest. “I’m happy,” you coo. 

“Good,” Levi says softly, and gives your cheek a tickle with the back of his left thumb. 

You turn your head to look up at his face. “Are you having a nice time?” 

“Definitely,” he says, nodding slowly, still facing straight ahead. He notices you still looking at him, and turns to you with slightly furrowed brows. “What?”

You look into his piercing gray eyes and shrug. “Nothing. Just watching.” 

“Watching what?” 

“Watching what?” you repeat in a low, mocking voice. You smile at him and then give him a peck at the corner of his mouth. 

Levi chuckles softly. “Okay, weirdo.” You put your head back down on his chest and he ruffles your hair. 

In front of you, Sasha and Connie walk in from the kitchen and start to dance goofily with each other in the middle of your living room. In seeing them, you realize that the song playing is actually very nice for dancing. The room seems to agree, because Farlan very cutely offers his hand to Isabel and they start to dance too. 

Levi notices you watching them. “All right…” He takes his arm off your shoulders and stands up, then cocks his head. “Come on.” 

“What?” you say. 

“Get up. Unless you’re going to leave me hanging? What, you’re gonna just let me stand here like a fucking idiot? I’m gonna look real fucking stupid if you don’t get up within, like, five seconds, so-” 

“Okay, okay, I’m getting up.” When you do, Levi puts one hand on your waist, which you mirror with your own on his shoulder. Your other hands clasp each other out to the side, and you start to dance in an easy, back-and-forth movement. You hold eye contact with each other as your hips sway in tandem with your footsteps. 

“This is going well,” Levi says. 

“Yeah,” you agree. “It’s a nice night. You’re a good dancer, by the way.” 

“Thanks.” He pauses. “Yeah no, that’s not what I meant. I meant that  _ this _ is going well.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Us?” Levi nods, and you smile at him. “I think so too.” 

His mouth turns up just a bit at the corners, and he pulls you in by the waist to hold you up against him as you dance. Your hand falls from Levi’s shoulder to his chest. Looking over his shoulder, you can see the rest of the room. There’s Sasha and Connie-- they look like idiots. There’s Farlan and Isabel-- they’re comfortable dancing together, but they’re a little shy, and ultimately completely adorable. Marco and Jean are sharing a reclining chair, Marco in Jean’s lap in a mall Santa fashion; Hanji and Armin are chatting and sipping from mugs by a window.  _ Where’s Eren, then?  _ Your eyes scan the room and find him quickly. He’s dancing, too-- with Mikasa. When they turn so that Eren faces in your direction and Mikasa faces away, you and he make eye contact. You give each other a white boy smile and wide eyes, then laugh silently at each other. He winks at you, and then turns his attention back to Mikasa. 

You blink slowly, a contented smile on your lips, as you scratch gently at Levi’s chest with your left hand. He squeezes your opposite hand in response as he plants a kiss on your jawline just below your ear. 

You’re not sure where this is going with him. You don’t think Levi’s sure, either, but as he said, it’s going well. And right now, dancing in his arms, in a room filled with the people you love most in the world, that’s enough. 

In fact, it’s more than enough. It’s wonderful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we are at the end of part one! i have decided that i'm going back to a once weekly publishing schedule. my editor just moved into her dorm and i'm moving in next week, so i think we could both use a more relaxed schedule as the semester proceeds. she and i also made a tiktok account together if anyone is interested-- we're @bokutos.maracas. right now it's mostly random anime jokes but i'm going to start adding headcanons and fan theories and jokes about my writing process as things move forward.  
> just as an fyi we're looking at about thirty chapters total, give or take. bless you all for coming with me this far, and i'll see you next sunday with the first chapter of part two!! love always <3<3  
> also: i want to credit tiktok user @elina_gorokh with the idea to make levi jewish, as well as some of the lines i used during that conversation.


	16. To Get a Tattoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy sunday, and welcome to the beginning of part two! lil timeskip here for ya, just a few months. we're now moving into the deeper part of an established relationship and kicking things off with some comedy and smut before we get into the meat of the second storyline. if you want to skip the smut, just head out when levi asks whether or not you can "do stuff." you'll see. happy reading!

Over your leggings and tank top, you pull on a zip-up hoodie. It’s an uncharacteristically warm September day, but it’s just a bit too chilly to go around in a tank top. You need to be wearing the tank top to expose your shoulder blade, though. It’s a very special day, after all. 

You’re incredibly excited, as well as incredibly nervous. You’re almost ready to leave, and as you walk through your living room, Sasha says from the couch, “Are you really doing this?” 

“Yes. I am,” you confirm. You’ve been having that same two-line exchange with yourself for the past twenty-four hours. 

“It just seems like an awfully big commitment. Don’t get me wrong, honey. I think it’s really sweet. But are you absolutely sure you want to do something like this for him?” 

You shake your head as you load up your pockets with your keys, wallet, and phone. “It’s not for him, necessarily.” 

“But you’re getting it  _ because _ of him.” 

“I’m getting it because… My heart is open.” You cringe internally at how cheesy you sound. “And yeah, that’s because of Levi. But the tattoo itself isn’t directly connected to him.” 

“But what if you guys break up? Then you’ll have this tattoo on you forever that reminds you of him.” 

“Okay, first of all, what makes you think we’re going to break up? Second of all, we’ve been together for a year now. Whether or not I get this tattoo, there’s going to be things that remind me of him for the rest of my life. And third of all,  _ like I already told you, _ I’ve run this by both Hanji and Isabel, and they both think it’s a really sweet idea. They’ve known him way longer than me. If either of them thought I was making a mistake, they’d stop me.” 

Sasha sighs. “Okay. If you’re sure, then good luck.” 

“I am, and thank you.” On your way out the door, you shout over your shoulder, “Don’t wait up! I won’t be home for dinner!” 

Your appointment at the Tattooery is at 1 pm. You’re set to get there in plenty of time, even walking. And when you arrive, Hanji will be there waiting for you. 

It’s supposed to be a surprise. Today is yours and Levi’s one-year anniversary, and you have plans to spend the evening with him. Before that, unbeknownst to Levi, you’re getting your first ever tattoo as a surprise. As you just mentioned to Sasha, the important women in Levi’s life think it’s a good idea. You’ve been grappling with what you want to get and where you want to get it, but after consulting with Hanji, you were able to settle on a design and location. You absolutely love what you’ve come up with, and you can’t wait to see it etched into your skin for the first time. 

When you walk through the doors of the Tattooery, Hanji is waiting for you, a big grin plastered on her face. “Hey, baby!” she greets you and pulls you into a big hug. “Oh my God, are you excited?” 

“Yes, Hanji, I’m very excited. I’m also anxious to get started. I don’t want to screw up this timing.” 

Hanji pulls back and starts to flutter around the reception desk where Mikasa is sitting. “Yes, yes, of course. Well, don’t worry-- we have plenty of time. Shorty won’t be here until 4.” 

You get all of the paperwork filled out that you need to and settle into one of the tattoo chairs. You unzip and remove your jacket and lay forward, stomach-down. The location of choice for this tattoo is just below your right shoulder blade. 

When Hanji approaches with her materials, she says, “Alright, cutie. Time to strip.” 

“Gotcha,” you say. You pull off your tank top and unclasp your bra in the back, careful not to let the front fall off as you lie back down. Hanji takes your tank top and drapes it on you so as to cover as much of you as she can without blocking the place she needs to work. 

“Okay, I’m going to put the stencil on. I’ll adjust it until it’s positioned and angled exactly how you want it. Alright?” 

“Sounds good.” The stencil paper falls on your skin and moves around a bit before Hanji holds a mirror in front of your face and another one behind you, so that you can see how it’s positioned. 

“How’s that?” she asks. 

“Um… Actually can you move it up a bit? And make sure it’s straight up-and-down, parallel with my spine.” 

“Gotcha…” Hanji temporarily puts one of the mirrors down to move the stencil according to your instructions, then picks it back up to show you again. “Okay, how about now?” 

“Yes, that’s perfect,” you say. 

“You sure? Now’s the time to say something, girlie.” 

“Yes, I’m sure. Let’s get this show on the road.” 

“Alrighty!” There’s a few seconds of silence, then you hear the tattoo machine turn on. Hanji moves around a bit out of your vision, then you feel her pause just above your back. “You ready?” 

“Yes.” 

“Alright, take a big deep breath. Here I come.” You do as you’re told, and exhale forcefully when you feel the needle make contact with your skin. The pricking, scratching sensation is very strong, and you’re glad that you’ve been mentally preparing for it for several weeks now. After a while, Hanji says, “I’m almost done with the outlining. Keep breathing, yeah? From the diaphragm.” 

You blink rather than nod so as to keep your body as still as possible. You’ve actually practiced some deep breathing stuff with Hanji at your consultation appointments. After another while, she says, “Alright, outlining’s done.” 

“Cool,” you say. You’re starting to adjust to the pain now. Instead of feeling each little motion, the pain is beginning to smush into a nonspecific ache. 

“So, how are your grad school applications going?” Hanji asks. 

“They’re fine. It’s coming along. Pretty stressful, but my big decisions are mostly over. It’s just a lot of work to do, now.” 

“Genetic Counseling, right? What’s your top choice?” 

“I really want to go to Virginia Commonwealth University. They’re not number one or anything, but I love their campus and I’ve talked to people online that were in the program who said they really liked it.” 

“Nice. Do you think you’re going to get in?” 

You sigh. “I don’t know. I mean, my GRE score and my GPA are definitely high enough that I could. But there’s still references and subjective stuff like my personal essay and the interview. Plus, it’s just so competitive that at a certain point it’s pretty much up to chance whether you get in or not. The applicants all tend to be pretty similar, I think.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” 

“But I’m applying to a lot of schools. Honestly, I’d be happy to get into any of the programs. I only need to get into one to keep my life on track.” 

Just then, Mikasa approaches from out of your sightline to sit down in a tattoo chair near you. She must have been getting pretty bored hanging out at reception. You’re the only one in the store at the moment that’s getting anything done. There’s another artist hanging out near the back in case anyone comes in for a walk-in, but other than the four of you, the store is empty. 

“Mika, I really have to focus on this part,” Hanji says. “Can you keep talking to her? You know, as a distraction?” 

Mikasa hadn’t been expecting that. “Um… yeah, sure.” She tries to think of something to say. “Um…” 

“Uh… how are you and Eren doing?” you offer. You and Mikasa aren’t really friends, and you really only know three things about her: (1) she’s Levi’s cousin, (2) she’s the receptionist at the Tattooery, and (3) since the holiday party two semesters ago, she and Eren have been having an excruciating back-and-forth. You could be wrong, but you’re under the impression that they’re doing okay at the moment. 

“We’re fine,” Mikasa says flatly. 

“No, they’re not,” Hanji says softly, focusing on her work. 

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “He’s just pissing me off right now.” 

“Well, what’s he doing?” you ask. “Maybe I can help.” 

Mikasa considers this for a moment. “Yeah, okay.” She settles in to talk, leaning her elbows on her knees and spreading her legs comfortably. “The other day, he was just being really controlling. And he said something that really made me mad.” 

“What was it?” 

“He said he thinks I should grow out my hair.” 

“Oh. That’s, um…” You pause. “I’m sorry, I’m lost. Why is that bad?” 

“The context,” Hanji says softly. 

“I guess I might as well just say the whole thing, then…” Mikasa says under her breath, and then: “Alright. So it was the afternoon, we were just hanging out in his apartment, and he suddenly gets really horny. So I’m going down on him, just doing my thing, you know. And he’s holding my hair back…” 

“How gentlemanly of him,” you say. 

Mikasa scoffs. “I know, right? Anyway, I’m going along, and he can’t keep my hair in his hands. Pieces of it kept falling into my mouth and that whole situation. But I’m dealing with it. Only at some point, he says ‘Uh, maybe you could grow out your hair,’ and I asked why, and he was all, ‘Just so it doesn’t keep falling.’” 

Mikasa is doing a very funny dumb guy voice when she talks for Eren, so you say, “That is a spot-on impression.” 

“Thank you. Anyway, I stop what I’m doing for a second to address this, and I say I like my hair how it is and he should just get better at holding it back. And he’s all, ‘But I really like long hair.’ Like, what the fuck? So I left.” 

You narrow your eyes at her. “Wait, you left? What do you mean?” 

“I mean I got up off the floor and I left.” 

“You didn’t finish him first?” 

“No. Why would I? Orgasms are for people that don’t try to make me change my appearance to fit their outdated opinions of how a woman should look.” 

Mikasa’s as blunt as her cousin, and it makes you laugh. 

“Try not to be funny, Mika,” Hanji says. “If (y/n) starts laughing I’m worried I’ll fuck up.” 

“Right, sorry.” 

“You know, I really don’t think he meant anything by it,” you say. “You know how he is. He just says stuff sometimes.” 

“Well, he needs to just say better, less offensive stuff,” Mikasa says. “I mean, I make very specific choices about how I present myself. He doesn’t get to just tell me to change it just because we’re fucking. Who does he think he is?” 

“Is that all it is? Just fucking?” 

Mikasa sighs, thinking, then shrugs and doesn’t say anything. 

“Okay,” you say. “Well, maybe you should just say all this to him. Eren doesn’t know what the hell’s going on with girls, pretty much ever. It might be good to explain how you’re thinking.” 

“I don’t want to. I mean…” She sighs again. “I guess I could. But I don’t want to reach out. He should be apologizing to me, not the other way around.” 

“Oh, no, don’t apologize. That’s not what I meant. Just… give  _ him _ the opportunity. Yeah?” 

“Yeah… Eh, I’ll think about it.” 

For the next hour or so, you chit-chat with Mikasa and Hanji about their lives. You’re starting to forge your own friendships with the people in Levi’s life that exist independently of the fact that you’re dating someone close to them. And he’s doing the same on your end-- over the year that you two have been together, there have been several double dates with Sasha and Connie, and with Jean and Marco. Your respective worlds are really starting to fuse together, which makes your relationship with him feel so broken-in and comfy. 

At one point, when there’s a lull, Hanji says, “Mikasa, what time is it?” 

She checks her phone. “3:37.” 

“Okay, perfect. I’m almost done. I should be finishing up right around when Levi gets here for his shift, so he can see it before I put the bandage on.” 

“Awesome,” you say. “Fuck. I can’t wait to see it.” 

Mikasa peers over to look at Hanji’s work. “It looks really good. I think you’ll be happy with it.” 

“Thanks, boo,” Hanji says. 

“You really think he’s gonna like it?” you ask. 

“Definitely,” Hanji says. “He’s gonna freak out about how awesome you are.” 

“Yeah… My roommate just thought that maybe it was too much.” 

“Well, it’s a little late to be bringing this up, (y/n). And anyway,  _ you _ don’t think it’s too much, do you?” 

“No. I mean, it’s a big thing, but I think it’s proportionate with… my feelings, and stuff.” 

“Then you shouldn’t worry. I’m sure he’s on the same page as you. You guys are totally in sync.” 

You smile. “You think so?” 

“Definitely. Total relationship goals.” 

“Hm. Well, I feel better. Thanks, Hanji.” 

“Anytime.” After another ten minutes or so, she says, “Whew. Okay, that’s it. You’re done.” 

“Oh, my God. Lemme see!” 

“Okay! Just stay down.” She gives you a handheld mirror and holds another one behind you so that you can see the reflection of your tattoo in it. “What do you think?” 

“Oh my God…” You’re almost speechless. “Hanji, it’s perfect. It looks just like I imagined it. Holy fuck… Oh my God. Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

“Hee-hee! You’re welcome…” She takes your mirror back. While you’re waiting for Levi to get there before Hanji patches you up, you pay for the tattoo and leave a generous tip that compensates for the fact that Hanji gave you a discount. 

You’re lying stomach-down on the tattoo chair, still half-braless with most of your back exposed, when Levi arrives for his short three-hour shift. Your face is shielded from him, so you hold still for a bit like you’re trying to hide. Hanji gets up immediately to say, “Hi, Levi! Are you having an awesome day?” 

“Fine,” you hear him say. 

“Today’s your one-year anniversary with (y/n), right?” 

“Yeah, that’s today. We’re having dinner tonight.” 

“Cool, cool. That’s so awesome.” 

“...Are you sick? Your face looks all crazy.” 

“I’m just happy for you, you big superstar!” 

“...You’re weird today.” He passes through the lobby on his way to the piercing nook, and when he finally enters your field of vision, you simply say, “Levi.” 

He turns around, startled and disoriented. “(Y/n)! What’re you d-” he sees your exposed back. “Oh shit. What?” 

You grin from ear to ear as he approaches. “Remember when I said there was going to be a surprise for you today? Well, this is it. Hanji gave me my first tattoo. Happy anniversary.” 

Levi crouches down next to you and examines the fresh tattoo below your shoulder blade. It’s an anatomically correct heart about the size of a small lemon, with these words written along the side of it, hugging the border:  _ What did I know, what did I know. _ Enigmatic and odd to the layperson, but to you, Levi, and now Hanji, the line would be recognized as one from one of your favorite poems,  _ Those Winter Sundays _ by Robert Hayden. The full line is: “What did I know, what did I know / of love’s austere and lonely offices?” It’s a beautiful, sad poem about a man understanding years later the ways that his father was able to express his love, but for you, those last two lines ring around in your head all the time like a lyrical manifestation of the deep, affectionate love you feel for Levi, and in general now for everyone in your life. 

“Oh, wow…” Levi whispers, raising a hand as if to touch the tattoo.

From across the room, Hanji calls: “Don’t touch it! Your hands aren’t clean. That’s an open wound, shorty. It’ll get infected.” 

“My hands are  _ always _ clean, four-eyes,” Levi says, not taking his eyes off the art. Still, he doesn’t touch it, but you can just barely sense his fingers hovering millimeters away from your skin. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

“So… what do you think?” you say after a bit. 

“What do I think?” Levi echos. “I think… My God, it’s incredible. You got this for me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I…” He stops looking at your tattoo and leans over to look in your eyes and hold your face with one hand. “I love it.” He gives you a deep, passionate kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

From across the room: “Alright, that’s enough!” Hanji approaches with a bandage. “It’s been exposed to air for long enough. Time to put this thing away.” As she applies the bandage, she says: “So, you’re going to want to take this off tonight, clean it very gently with an unscented antiseptic soap, and then give it some Vaseline. You’re going to clean it and reapply Vaseline every twelve hours for the next month, and during that time I want you to avoid friction with it. Don’t pick at it, and try your best to just not touch it at all. You think you can do that?” 

“Yeah, totally. Thanks again.” 

“Of course!” Hanji very gently pats your bandaged back. “Alright, you’re free to go. Honestly, since you’re just going home, I’d probably recommend that you not put your bra back on and just leave it to the tank top and sweatshirt. The band is going to go right on top of this thing, and take it from me: that makes it hurt a lot more.” 

“Okay, got it.” You pull your tank top back on and then pull your bra out from under your shirt. You’re about to throw your hoodie on when Levi says, “Well, you don’t have to go home right away. I mean, I know we didn’t have plans until tonight, but you could hang out here with me if you want. If you’re not busy.” 

You smile. “No, I’m not busy.” 

“Great.” You stand up and he puts your hand on your lower back to lead you across the room. “Yeah, let’s just go in here.” 

“Okay, sure. I just have to leave at six or so to get ready for dinner tonight.” 

“Cool, cool. Sure.” As you’re getting to the door of the piercing nook, he says in a low, husky voice, “So, does it hurt a lot, or can you do stuff?” 

“What? Um… Well, it does hurt, but…” You shrug and smile bashfully. “I could do stuff, yeah.” 

“Perfect.” You pass through the threshold of the nook and lean your hips against the opposite wall as Levi shuts the door. As soon as he does, he turns around and is immediately pressed up against you, one hand on the small of your back and the other holding your face as his mouth hungrily attaches to yours. 

You grab onto his ass with both hands and pull your mouth away for just a moment to say, “Here? Now? Are you sure this is okay?” 

“It’s fine. I’ll deal with it after.” Levi kisses you again, and you can already feel yourself growing slick between your legs. You tuck one of your legs behind Levi’s, linking the two of you together at the knees. He grabs firmly onto one of your breasts through your tank top and starts to roll his thumb over your nipple, causing you to arch your back, which makes your fresh tattoo ache from the movement. To distract yourself from the pain, you grab onto the edge of Levi’s shirt at his lower back to pull it up over his head. When he retreats to finish the job and toss his shirt aside, you try to pull yours off as well, but wince at the use of your back muscles. Levi notices this and says, “Sh, sh. I got it.” He pulls your shirt off for you, careful to disturb your right arm as little as possible. 

He kisses your mouth again just once, then moves on to your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin and making you gasp. Every time with Levi feels like the first time in terms of overwhelming arousal and sensitivity. You leave your right hand resting around the toned muscles of Levi’s lower back and yank at his hair by the roots with your left. This earns you a growl, and he places one hand right at the base of your neck to lightly squeeze at either side, holding your neck still for him to devour. 

With your right hand, you start to rub your pussy through your leggings, getting impatient for contact. The moment you do, though, Levi grabs that hand by the wrist, looks right in your eyes and  _ tut-tuts _ . “I don’t think so. That’s just for me.” 

You start to breathe more heavily, getting increasingly hot and bothered as Levi moves from your neck to the sensitive areas around your collarbone, leaving little bruises all the way. “C’mon, Levi,” you breathe. “Please.” 

“Please what?” He places a single kiss on your nipple. “What is it that you want?” 

You moan softly. “C’mon, please. Please just give it to me.” 

“Give what to you? You’re being very unclear, babydoll.” 

You groan in frustration. “Fuck me, Levi. Please fuck me.” 

He starts to rub very slow, firm circles on your pussy through your leggings and underwear. “Fuck you with what? My fingers? Is that what you want?” 

You whine. “No. I want your cock. Please fuck me with your fat, hard cock. I can’t take this anymore.” 

“All you had to do was say so.” Levi grabs you around your thighs and lifts you up, your hips against his, to place you down on the empty counter in the little nook, which is very conveniently pretty much level with his hips. The empty space above the counter means that there’s nothing for your fresh tattoo to bump against. Even though he’s being dominant, he still doesn’t want to hurt you. 

He tucks his hands into your leggings and pulls both them and your underwear off in one smooth motion, then tosses them on the piercing chair behind him. Levi leans into you again, kissing you deeply and plunging two fingers into your throbbing pussy. 

Two fingers are just a tease, especially when he ever-so-subtly flicks right into your g-spot every few pumps. You can’t even focus on kissing him because all of this teasing is driving you crazy. You just pant and let your eyes flutter between being open and shut. Levi stops fingering you momentarily to tug down his jeans and boxers just far enough to whip out his cock and give it a few pumps. He digs two fingers into you, collects your warm, slick juices, and then uses them to jack himself off. 

There are absolutely no thoughts in your head when he says, “Tell me again what you want, babydoll. Say it.” 

“I want your cock,” you whine softly. 

“Where?” 

“In my pussy. I want your cock in my hot, needy pussy.” 

Levi gives his cock a few more pumps, then grabs onto the crook between your neck and shoulder to hold you in place as he lines himself up at your entrance. Without another word, he plunges himself inside you with one hard thrust, immediately having you take him down to the base. 

You throw your head back in ecstasy, bumping into the cabinet above the counter as you throw both your arms around him to place a hand on each of his shoulder blades. He hasn’t started moving yet. “Nngh, Levi…” 

“What’s the matter, princess? Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

Your walls are clenching around his cock, begging for movement. “Mmh…” 

“The more you say, the more I do, babydoll. Tell me just what you want.” 

“Nngh… I want you to fuck me, Levi. I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk.” 

You cry out as he starts to pound into you relentlessly, and he throws a hand over your mouth. “You have to be quiet. I don’t want anyone out there to hear us.” 

Suddenly you remember Hanji and Mikasa out in the main room of the Tattooery and you nod, but Levi doesn’t take his hand away from your mouth. You just gasp through your nose as his cock fills you, repeatedly thrusting into your g-spot. Your clit is begging to be stimulated, but you don’t dare reach down there again since you know Levi will just grab your hand and not let you. Even so, you feel your orgasm start to build in the pit of your stomach. 

You try not to make any noise, but you can’t help but let out a few mewls of pleasure that get muffled by Levi’s hand covering your lips. After a few more pumps, Levi does uncover your mouth so that you are free to pant through it once again, and instead puts his hand back around the base of your neck. 

“Levi… ‘M gonna cum…” you whimper quietly. 

“Hold it,” he commands. “Don’t you dare cum until I say you can.” 

You just barely manage not to groan as you resist the call of your orgasm. You manage instead to just gasp, your breathing becoming ragged. The tiny room is mostly silent but for the two of you, so you can hear very clearly that your pussy is making things more slick than ever before as a result of not being allowed to cum. You imagine that because of the angle of your legs hiked up as they are, your juices are now dripping down your ass. 

It’s getting harder and harder to hold back. “Levi, please can I cum? Please?” 

“No.” He just keeps fucking you relentlessly. 

“Please. Please, I can’t…” you pant. “I can’t take it.” 

“You’ll cum exactly when I tell you to, and not a moment before.” 

You wrap your legs around his hips, desperate to have him closer despite not yet being allowed to cum. Your arms wrap further around his back and grab onto each other at the forearms as you feel tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes. Your pussy is quivering impossibly. 

Levi’s thrusts are starting to become less rhythmic and controlled as he starts to grunt into your ear, and you know he’s close. After another few pumps, you say softly into his ear, “Levi…” 

This earns you a deep, throaty growl, and his thrusts get even shorter and faster, repeatedly slamming into your overworked g-spot. He very softly nibbles your ear just before he says, “Cum for me, baby. Right now.” 

Those words are all it takes to hurl you over the edge. It feels like every muscle in your body contracts at the same time as your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and the only thing that stops you from letting out a deep, guttural moan is Levi’s hand flying across your mouth and nose once again. The edges of your vision even start to black out a bit as your legs and abs convulse and Levi buries his cock deep inside you. You can feel it twitching as you fill up with his cum, and both of you are left trembling as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. 

As your orgasms fade, Levi gingerly pulls his cock out of your pussy. Now he’s panting as hard as you’ve been. Your legs relax and dangle, your feet almost touching the floor of the little room. “Holy fuck,” you whisper. 

“Yeah,” Levi agrees, his face still close enough to yours for his nose to just barely touch yours. You tilt your chin forward to give him a soft, sweet kiss as your heart rate finally starts to slow. “Oh, my God,” he says as he leans away from you and tucks his cock back into his jeans. “I have to disinfect this whole fucking place now.” 

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back for a very different reason from a few minutes ago. “Can you hand me my clothes, please?” 

“Yes.” 

As you’re getting dressed, Levi looks at the hickeys he left on your neck and chest. “Fuck. Did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head. “Not in any way I didn’t like.” 

“Your tattoo feels okay?” 

“Oh.” You suddenly remember the throbbing pain in your back. “Well, it doesn’t feel any worse than before.” 

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” 

You scoff. “Sorry for what? Giving me the best orgasm of my life?” 

“Okay, okay.” Levi looks at you sideways, then shakes his head as if dismissing a thought. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Nothing. Um…” He shrugs, feigning a casual air. “I was just wondering what you were going to wear tonight and if I might be able to see…” He walks over to you and gently touches the hickeys on your neck and chest. “...any of these little love bites.” 

You smile playfully. “I think you probably will.” 

“Don’t use any concealer, hm?” Levi goes back to straightening things up. 

“You got it.” You zip up your hoodie. “I think I’m gonna have to head out. I should probably… clean up. Before tonight.” 

Levi snorts. “Yeah, probably.” 

You check yourself in the mirror and see that one of your hickeys is still exposed by your hoodie. You pull your hood up and pull on the strings so that only your face is visible. That’s better. 

You give Levi a quick kiss goodbye and then exit the nook, shutting the door behind you. You pass Mikasa and Hanji on your way out and give them each polite goodbyes, thanking Hanji again for the beautiful job she did on your new tattoo. Just as you’re walking through the front doors of the Tattooery, you hear Hanji say from within, “Levi, you’d better be disinfecting that room twice over, and you just  _ pray _ you don’t get any walk-ins until it’s done!” 

You don’t acknowledge in any way that you heard her and let the door of the Tattooery shut behind you. You spend your walk back to your apartment trying to make your shaky, weakened legs function normally and doing your very best to ignore the sensation of Levi’s cum running out of your vagina and into your underwear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am a vain motherfucker so i decided that the main storyline isn't enough and i need to make extra asides and little treats, both for me and for you. you may notice that this work is now part of a series-- if you go to part two, you'll find the extras. there's just one aside there now that's a bit of a flashback, but going forward i'm going to fill it with more asides, deleted scenes, playlists and some other fun stuff to supplement the story if you want to get deeper into it. think of it like superfan additions to the story i guess lol. and if there's an aside you want to see, or a question about the story or a character that you have, feel free to drop it in the comment section of that work and i will hop on it!   
> anyway blahblahblahblahblah see you next sunday lol


	17. Reset, Recap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello-hello-hello and happy sunday! this chap is a little tense so i'm sorry about that, but it's essential to the arc of the story. i'll get back to fun and fluff next week; i promise. i know all of us that are keeping up with the anime are sort of fed up with tension today what with the new episode (i am too). i think i'm going to publish another aside or another sort of fun extra sometime this week but don't quote me on that. anyways happy reading!

“So is Mikasa coming to this thing?” you ask. 

“I think she is,” Levi answers. “She said she was, anyway. When I asked her.” 

“Are you sure? Eren said he didn’t think she was going to show.” 

“Is that what she said to him?” 

“She didn’t say one way or the other. That’s why he thinks she’s not coming.” 

Levi shrugs his shoulders. “Well, she can be like that sometimes. Aloof. She’s just trying to protect herself.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense. I get it, I guess.” 

You’re in the car on the way to a Friendsgiving event at Jean and Marco’s apartment. Jean moved in with Marco at the beginning of this semester for two reasons: (1) he doesn’t care about Bertholdt and Reiner and (2) he loves Marco. It just makes sense to live together while Jean is in the city for school. It’s been about a month and a half since you got your tattoo, and it’s healed up very nicely. Not that it matters, anyway-- it’s a trifle chilly out so it won’t be visible in the slightest from beneath your thin sweater. But you know it’s there. That’s what’s important. 

Friendsgiving events usually mean that each person has to bring a food item, but since you and Levi are a couple, you’re allowed to just bring one item between the two of you. And of course, to avoid any overlapping dishes, each individual or couple has been assigned a food category. You two got dessert. The plan was to make a berry cobbler as a team and also bring vanilla ice cream to go with it, but when you actually got down to making it in Levi’s kitchen, there ended up being a very unequal distribution of labor. You wanted to help, but Levi gets a little nuts with cooking and baking, so after a while you just backed off and let him have free reign of the kitchen while you read a book nearby. 

That was this afternoon. You got a little irritated about it at the time, but you’ve mostly chilled out now that it’s getting into the evening.  _ Couples get in each others’ way sometimes,  _ you’ve been assuring yourself.  _ It isn’t a big deal.  _

But at the same time, the two of you aren’t exactly feeling like you’re on a honeymoon right now. That phase of your relationship has long passed. What you’ve got now is more of a stable and secure companionate love, rather than the electric sort of passionate love you felt in the first six months or so of the relationship. 

It’s a bit different from the energies with the other couples in your friend group, and that much is clear when you walk through the door of Jean and Marco’s apartment. You’re greeted by Connie and Sasha answering the door-- they’re joined at the hip, practically, and always are. Jean and Marco are playing the gracious hosts, and the soft glow of domestic bliss seems to be spilling out of them and filling up the apartment. 

At least you guys aren’t Eren and Mikasa. Mikasa has, in fact, shown up, as Levi thought she would. They’re sitting next to each other at the kitchen table-- Eren and Jean seem to be bickering with each other, as usual, while their partners look on. There’s a very bizarre vibe coming off of Eren and Mikasa which suggests that they’re a bit pissed at each other at the moment, but also that they absolutely can’t wait to tear each others’ clothes off after all of this is over. This contradictory and confusing dynamic can tend to create some unpleasantness with Eren and Mikasa, who are both generally prone to unpleasantness already. 

Despite this, it’s a very nice overall atmosphere in the apartment as everyone sits down to eat. The kitchen table is circular, but Jean and Marco are sitting at the “head” so to speak. Moving clockwise, Eren sits next to Jean with Mikasa on his other side, then Levi, then you, Sasha on your right side, Connie next to her, and Armin in between Connie and Marco. Everyone’s having friendly little conversations with each other as the feast commences. At some point during dinner, Marco asks you from across the table, “(Y/n), how are your grad school apps going?” 

“They’re fine,” you smile politely. “Coming along. I should be ready to submit in a couple weeks, actually.” 

“What’s your top choice?” Connie asks. 

“I like VCU. That’s Virginia Commonwealth University.” 

“Damn. That’s pretty far.” 

“Yeah… about a thousand miles away.” 

“And you’re just going to live there for the two years, right?” Sasha says. “Instead of doing the whole back-and-forth thing.” 

“Yeah…” You sigh and put down your fork. “I don’t know. I mean, I’d kind of like to go back and forth. It’s just that there’s going to be internships for me in the summers, and I’m probably going to get a job there, so I’ll have that in the winters. I mean, money is still a thing. So I feel like it’s probably just easier to stay there for the full two years. Lease an apartment. All that.” 

“Well, that’s just if you get into  _ that _ one,” Jean says. “Right? The other schools are closer.” 

“Yeah, they’re all closer than VCU. And then the farthest one other than VCU is just in the next state over from here. What’s really going to uproot me is VCU. If I even get in, that is.” 

“Do you think you will?” Marco asks. 

“I don’t know… I could.” You laugh nervously and shake your head. “But I probably won’t. It’s unlikely no matter how good you are, honestly. A lot of it is just luck.” 

“Mm-hm.” Marco looks at Levi. “What do  _ you _ think, Levi? Is she going to get in?” 

“Of course she is,” your boyfriend answers with certainty, not even looking up from his food. “They’d have to be fucking crazy not to accept her.” Then, he turns to you. “She’s the best there is.” 

You smile at him and knock your knee into his. 

“Gross,” Jean says. 

“It’s not gross. It’s nice,” Armin says, then laughs nervously. “It’s nice that everyone is happy together. I mean, I’m the…” He gives the table a once over. “Ninth wheel here. It’s kind of sad.” 

“It’s not sad. It’s nice,” Jean echos. “I mean, you can do whatever you want, hook up whenever.” 

“Excuse me?” Marco says quietly, a little offended. 

Low enough that Armin can’t hear, Jean whispers: “I’m just trying to make him feel better.” 

Not acknowledging that interaction, Armin says, “Heh. Yeah, that’s me. Just crushing butt on the daily.” He drops the pity party attitude and leans into the bit. “I’ve actually had to start carrying running shoes in my backpack because I’m sprinting from one sexual encounter to another.” 

This earns a laugh from the room and you say, “Yeah, Armin, it’s not weird to not be involved with someone. I mean, we’re in our twenties; well, most of us are.” You elbow Levi next to you and give him a playful smile. The age difference between the two of you has been not a weird thing for quite some time, and has instead become a running gag in your friend group. Levi has been good-naturedly called a cougar on more than one occasion. The group laughs at your comment, but all Levi does is give you half a smirk and just barely not meet your eyes. 

The dinnertime conversation moves on without you as you think to yourself,  _ Yes, he is definitely weird today. It’s not my imagination. _ It wasn’t the cobbler from this afternoon; something is going on. 

That night, while Levi is driving you back to your apartment, you need to know what that is, but you don’t want to point fingers. “Is it just me, or are we having a bit of an off day today?” you say, probing the situation. 

It doesn’t get you much. “Yeah, seems that way,” Levi says, keeping his eyes on the road. 

You’re not giving up, though. “Why do you think that is?” 

He just shrugs. 

You’re losing patience. “Levi, what is it? Did I do something?” 

He purses his lips and exhales forcefully through his nose. “No. You didn’t do anything.” 

“Well, what is it, then? Is something going on? Please. I can’t take this.” 

“It’s nothing. It’s not your issue; it’s mine.” 

“Well…” You scoff. “Can you tell me anyway? Maybe there’s something I can do. We’re a team, yeah? Your problems are my problems.” 

Levi sighs defeatedly. “Look, I am so happy for you and proud of you that you’re going to grad school next year. But…” His fingers tap restlessly on the steering wheel. “It’s far. You said it yourself. VCU is a thousand miles away, and… My life with you is here.” 

You nod, unsure of what to say. “Yeah. You’re right. We haven’t talked about it.” 

“I don’t want you to stress about this at all, but you asked what was wrong, and… that’s pretty much all that’s wrong right now.” 

“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” you say gently. “It is a very long shot for me to get into VCU at all. I probably won’t get in, and if I don’t, the other schools are much closer. I’m also applying to the grad school here. I could live here in the city if I did that. I don’t think this is worth stressing about right now, for either of us.” You don’t want to think about it, your dream school having the potential to keep you away from your dream guy. 

Levi accepts this as an answer, but things are weird when he drops you off in front of your apartment building. You kiss each other good-bye as usual and the standard I-love-yous are said, but things feel strained and off-balance. There’s too much that’s being left unsaid, and too much potential for those things to end up destroying you. 

But neither of you wants to think about it, so you don’t-- at least, you try your very hardest not to. It all feels like too much importance to place on a hypothetical. You don’t get very much time to decompress from the conversation though, because the following morning you get a text from Isabel asking you if you want to have drinks with her that night. You immediately accept her invitation and make plans to meet her at the Spot at eight o’clock. 

Where Isabel had once simply been Levi’s half-sister, she can now more accurately be considered your good friend who also happens to be related by blood to your boyfriend. In other words, you’ve established a friendship with her that exists independently of your relationship with Levi. At the same time however, he is most of what the two of you tend to talk about. 

You meet Isabel at the Spot in jeans and a huge black sweatshirt with no shirt on underneath. Isabel is dressed in a similarly casual vein-- neither of you are thinking of trying to pick up guys at the bar, and you’re comfortable enough with each other and in the bar that you don’t feel the need to act like peacocks. It also helps that you’re on a first-name basis with the bartender working there that night. 

You sit down at the bar with Isabel in two side-by-side barstools and say, “Hey Marco, can we get two screwdrivers over here?” 

“Sure thing, (y/n),” he says, walking over to your end of the bar to mix your drinks. 

“So, how was your day?” you ask Isabel. 

“Oh, you know. Same old. HR paperwork and data analysis. The usual.” 

“Nothing too stressful, I hope?” 

Marco serves your drinks as Isabel answers, “Nah. Boring. As per.” 

“Good.” You’ve asked Isabel to explain her job to you many times, and at this point you’ve given up actually trying to understand what she does. Every time she tries to explain it to you, it comes out sounding like ‘Synergistic management solutions! Micromarketing! Innovative web development!’ As long as it works for her, you figure, there’s no reason to doubt it. 

“How about you, babe?” Isabel asks. “How were your classes?” 

“Fine,” you answer. “It’s starting to get kind of close to finals week so things are ramping up. I have a couple projects and lab reports and stuff due next week.” 

“Blegh. Gross.” Isabel scoffs. “I definitely don’t miss that.” 

“Can’t imagine why you would,” you concur with a chuckle, then turn to Marco. “Marco, honey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” 

“What’s up?” 

“What is it like living with Jean?” 

Marco laughs awkwardly. “Uh… It’s definitely interesting.” 

“Interesting how?” you press. 

“Well, um… Like, for example, a couple days ago he tried to make us dinner, but he mixed up the sugar and salt containers, so the pasta tasted like fruit loops, and the brownies tasted like… Well, like salt. It was like biting into a big, soft brick of salt.” 

You and Isabel laugh uproariously. “I  _ knew _ he wasn’t any better at cooking!” you exclaim. “Once, when we were in high school, he almost burned my house down making spaghetti because he forgot to add water before he set it to boil.” 

Marco laughs. “Yeah, that’s definitely the same guy I’m living with now. Other than that, though, it’s pretty great so far. He’s pretty tidy. I can’t complain.” 

You sigh. “That sounds amazing. Honestly, it sounds a lot like Sasha and I, except you get to break each other off constantly.” 

“Don’t make me cut you off before you’ve even finished your first drink.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” 

“Hey, speaking of long-term relationships though,” Marco says, “Are you and Levi doing alright? I noticed a kind of weird vibe with you guys yesterday.” He immediately walks back on it. “I mean, I thought I did. I don’t know. It’s your relationship, not mine. I don’t want to pry.” 

Isabel looks concerned. “I didn’t know about this. Are you guys okay?” 

“Yes, yes, we’re fine,” you say. “I think there’s just a bit of a… bump in the road, so to speak.” 

“What’s the bump?” Marco asks. 

“Grad school. We hadn’t really talked about what it means for us until just last night, and I guess he felt weird. We talked about it while he was driving me home.” You take a swig of your drink and shrug. “Honestly, I hadn’t really been thinking about it.” 

“Why not?” Isabel says. “I mean, no offense, but that feels pretty important, right?” 

“Yes, of course it is. I guess… I guess I just didn’t really  _ want _ to think about it.” You put your glass down and it lands on the bar with a low thud. “I mean, it’s enough to think about just trying to get into VCU. Their genetic counseling track is my dream program. I’m barely keeping my head above water just imagining how my life will change based on what programs I get into. I can’t really wrap my head around other stuff until I know what my choices are.” You shrug. “Is that selfish? I didn’t really think it was, but maybe it is.” 

“I don’t think it’s selfish, necessarily,” Marco says. 

“Look, this is uncharted territory for everyone, right?” Isabel says. “Every woman my big brother dated before you either had no discernable life direction, had no interest in committing, or was borderline abusive. He’s never had an opportunity to try to settle, and you’re just so young that everything in your life so far has been new stuff. You haven’t really had a chance to settle anywhere yet either just by virtue of your age, and you’re not going to get that chance until after you finish with school.” 

“Is it just that I’m too young for him?” you ask with a thin layer of despair and exhaustion in your voice. “Is that the source of this whole thing?” 

Isabel frowns. “Eh… it’s not that you’re too young, it’s just that you guys are at different stages in your lives. Levi’s in a place where, barring some extreme catastrophe or miracle, his life isn’t likely to change drastically within the next decade. You, on the other hand? Your life is nothing but change, and it’s going to be like that for a few years. I mean, realistically, when do you think you’re going to start to settle?” 

You think for a moment. “I don’t know. I go to grad school in half a year… Three years? That seems like enough time to finish the program and get settled into a job.” 

Isabel nods, encouraging you to keep thinking. 

“I guess… That’s a long time to wait for someone to settle.” At this, you down the rest of your drink. “Refill, please, Marco.” 

“That’s exactly it,” Isabel says as Marco fixes you another screwdriver. 

“What, so are we just doomed?” you ask alarmedly. “Is that what you’re saying?” 

“No! God, no. That’s not what I’m saying.” Isabel downs the rest of her drink as well. “Refill, please, Marco. No, (y/n). You’re not doomed. That’s not what I meant. My brother loves you  _ so much. _ He is  _ disgustingly _ in love with you.” 

“That’s sweet,” you say absentmindedly, tracing the rim of your glass with your index finger. 

“Sweet enough to make someone vomit, yes, it is,” Isabel says. “Three years is a long time, yes. But he would wait for you. I know he would. Besides, what’s three years compared with the rest of your life?” 

“The rest of my life?” you say, caught off-guard. “What does that mean?” 

Isabel makes a face like she’s just realized she said too much, and looks at Marco for help, who just shrugs, polishing a glass. “Um…” she takes a sip of her drink. “Nothing.” 

You think you know what it means, but you’ll sound so stupid if you’re wrong, so you don’t voice that thought, and instead say this one: “Is that what  _ you  _ expect? You expect for me to be with him for the rest of my life?” 

Isabel shakes her head, flustered. “I don’t expect anything. I mean…” She scoffs. “Would I  _ enjoy _ having you around as my sister-in-law? Yes. But I don’t  _ expect _ it. I have no dog in this fight. That’s just what I envision.” 

You don’t say anything. This is all too much. Isabel is right: your life is all about change right now. It’s not that you would rather be dating someone else; you wouldn’t. In fact, you can’t really envision a better person to be with than Levi. But that’s not really the point. You’re twenty-two years old. It’s a little early to have the rest of your life written out like this. As of now, Levi has not been introduced to your parents. Maybe this age difference has more potential for problems than you thought. 

You shake your head. “I love him,” you remind yourself under your breath and take a sip of your drink. 

“Oh, of course you do,” Isabel says much more loudly. “Damn it. I’m sorry, (y/n). Please just forget I said anything. I mean, Levi would just  _ kill _ me if he thought I told you that…” She shakes her head. “Just forget it. I mean, it’s like you said. You don’t even know what’s going to happen with this school thing. It’s pointless to try to think so far ahead.” 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. 

After a beat, Marco says, “Why don’t we just talk about something else? Isabel, I don’t think I’ve ever heard about what your job is?” 

“I’m an Industrial/Organizational Psychologist, or I/O Psychologist. So basically, I perform data analysis, human resources functions, and design programs for an office to increase their efficiency and optimize employee satisfaction.” 

“Okay.” Marco pauses, then laughs. “Wait, what?” 

Isabel continues trying to explain her job to Marco as your thoughts continue to drift every which way. It’s tough trying to sort out your feelings in this noisy, poorly lit bar, but you know you feel a little trapped. It seems like other people have already decided what you feel and what you’re going to do about it, and now you stand to disappoint the people you hold dear if you don’t live up to their expectations of you. And you’re sure Isabel is not the only one that expects this from you-- a lot of your friends probably expect it, in the same way that you expect Marco and Jean to still be living together by this time next year, only their expectations for you extend for several decades. 

But you also know that you love Levi more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and for now, all you can do is hope that that’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's something i want to say to everyone after the conflict i opened up in this chapter:   
> i need to you trust me. this fic is turning into an actual story as opposed to a fun escape from my life, so i'm going to take it through some tough stuff. my promise to you all is that i'll get you out on the other side, satisfied and happy with how it ended. i swear on my life that i will not abandon this story; i'll give you all a happy ending if it kills me. just trust me, and let me take you through some trickier places, and it'll make the story more satisfying when it ends. and i'll keep weaving in fun and nice stuff and lots of fluff to get through the tougher parts, so don't worry about a thing.   
> i'll see you all next week!


	18. A Hopeful Transmission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and happy sunday! some people (my editor included) are watching the super bowl right now, but i'm proofreading and publishing a fanfiction. and i wouldn't have it any other way! i don't care about football and i love writing this story. my editor totally flipped for this chapter so i'm hoping you guys will enjoy it too. fair warning, there's crazy smut at the end, so if you'd like to skip it, just hop on out at the pov change.   
> and as for why it's 'crazy'... i alluded to this sometime in part one, so i felt obligated to explore it. you'll see. happy reading!

“Wow, this amusement park is really big.” 

“You know what it’s called, Eren.”

“Yes I do.” 

“Say it.” 

“...Super Silly Fun Land.” 

“Very good.” You tousle Eren’s hair affectionately. 

“Why does the name have to be so emasculating to say out loud?” Eren complains. 

“I don’t think it’s emasculating, necessarily,” Armin says. “Super Silly Fun Land is a name designed to attract children.” 

Jean turns around in front of you to walk backwards through the entrance of the amusement park. “Don’t worry, Eren. It takes a guy that’s very secure in his masculinity to say Super Silly Fun Land. It’s not your fault that you have no balls.” 

Eren points at him. “Hey, man, I’m super secure. I will say Super Silly Fun Land all day long.” 

You laugh. “Try to save that competitive energy for the games, dude.” 

Super Silly Fun Land is about a half-hour’s drive from your school, in that area between your town and the next where the only signs of civilization are huge billboards advertising Chrisianity and fast food chains, as well as the occasional Sunoco gas station. The Sunoco across the street from Super Silly Fun Land gets an enormous amount of business, since the amusement park tends to attract many visitors, especially on a Saturday night like tonight. While it is a quite cold January afternoon, the sun is out and unencumbered by any clouds that might threaten snow. Super Silly Fun Land is very similar to the kind of amusement park that could be found adjacent to a boardwalk, only bigger and with more elements-- classic fair games that promise goldfish and enormous stuffed animals to their victors are everywhere, along with multiple rollercoasters, a swing carousel, a drop tower, and even a mini golf course. It’s the perfect place to celebrate the beginning of your last undergraduate semester with your three favorite boys in the world. Since your grad school applications have been submitted for weeks and your classes have barely begun, the only thing on your mind right now is embracing your free time. 

As you approach one of three ticket booths near the entrance of Super Silly Fun Land, Armin asks, “How many tickets are you guys buying?” 

“No tickets for this guy,” Jean says. “I’m getting one of those unlimited ride wristbands.” 

“Same here,” Eren says. 

“Now, you guys are aware that those wristbands don’t get you unlimited plays on the fair games, right?” you say. 

“Oh, I’m aware,” Eren says. “I’m going all-out tonight. I have a hundred dollars in my pocket and I’m pouring it all into fair food and carnival games.” 

“I’m not quite that financially irresponsible,” Jean says, “so I’m not spending any on the games. They’re a total rip-off.” 

“Are not,” you tease. “You just always lose because you have no hand-eye coordination.” 

“Those games are rigged!” Jean shouts. “Anyway, how do you even have that much money to blow on this, Eren? You don’t have a job.” 

“Neither do you.” Eren steps forward in line with a smirk. “You don’t know about my investments. I just made a quick stop at the ATM.” 

“Oh, no you didn’t, you big fat liar,” you jab. “You got that money from Mikasa.” 

Eren frowns angrily and Jean bursts into laughter as Armin lightly elbows you in the side and says, “How did  _ you _ know about that?” 

“Levi told me,” you explain with a giggle. “She always gives him money.” 

“Eren is a sugar baby!” Jean crows. “Eren is a goth girl’s whore!” 

“Shut the  _ fuck _ up, man!” Eren jabs at Jean with loose fists like a little boy as your group approaches the front of the ticket line. While Eren and Jean get unlimited rides bracelets, you and Armin just purchase fifteen tickets each. Armin doesn’t like rollercoasters much, and you’d rather spend most of your money on the carnival games. It doesn’t matter how often you lose at them-- you’re obsessed with the idea of winning one of those enormous stuffed animals that can barely fit in your car. 

But before roller coasters or carnival games, mini golf is up first. The small jungle-themed mini golf course at Super Silly Fun Land is situated right up against the road the amusement park lives next to and takes ten dollars per person to go through the course. 

Armin is fantastic at mini-golf. After only three of the twelve holes, he’s ten strokes ahead of everyone else. Ordinarily, you’d figure that Eren would take second place, but it ends up being you. 

You’re not great at mini golf. In fact, you’d say that Eren is definitely more talented at it than you are, but Jean is not above using psychological warfare to get under Eren’s skin. So for the entire game, Armin is winning by a wide margin with you in second place, and Eren and Jean close behind you alternating between being in last place. 

The final hole comes pretty quickly, since it’s a small course. It’s a long, straight shot into an alligator’s mouth, with the green situated perpendicular to the road just beyond it. A hole-in-one means that you get a free stuffed alligator, and you all know it. 

Armin makes the shot pretty easily, despite copious amounts of raucous interference coming from the peanut gallery. You don’t make the shot, but you manage to secure second place with just two strokes on the hole. 

Then, it’s Eren’s turn. The sun is starting to hang lower in the sky as Eren says, “Alright, this is it. I need complete silence, guys. This is the moment.” 

You and Armin comply since you have nothing to gain from him missing the shot; with Eren’s current score, the only person he has a chance of beating with a hole-in-one is Jean. Bizarrely, Jean also seems like he’s going to keep quiet as Eren starts to line up the shot. He takes a few practice swings and you watch with rapt attention as Jean stands suspiciously still right next to him. 

Eren takes a deep breath and it’s clear that this swing is for real as he pulls back the golf club. Right as he starts to swing it forward, Jean, without moving or looking at Eren, says very quickly at a low volume: “Sugarbabycan’tmakeashot.” 

As this is about the thirtieth sugar baby-related jab Jean has made at Eren over the course of the game, it awakens an unbridled rage in Eren, making him fantastically fuck up his swing. He not only hits it at the wrong angle, but way too hard, and you can only watch in awe as the golf ball sails over the head of the dragon and past the fence of the amusement park to land in the road beyond. 

You, Jean, and Armin scream with laughter as Eren shouts, “No! No! No! Damn you!” and then shoves Jean hard. 

“Oh my God, wait, look!” Armin says through gasping laughter and points out to the road. 

You, who had been doubled over with convulsing laughter, look up to see that someone who had stopped at a red light right outside of the amusement park is getting out of their car. You stop laughing immediately. “No way.” 

Eren stops battling Jean momentarily to look, but Jean stays laughing obnoxiously as you watch the driver walk around his car and pick up the light purple golf ball from the middle of the road. You and Armin jump up and down and wave your arms: “Here! Here!” 

The driver smiles at you, winds up, and throws the ball back in your direction. He has a good arm, too: the ball goes right for your group. Actually, it goes right for Jean, who is not paying attention. 

“Jean, watch out!” you say, and Jean stops gloating for just a second to say, “What?” Right as he looks at you, the golf ball completes its journey and hits Jean squarely in the side of the head. The ball rebounds right in Eren’s direction and he grabs it out of the air with both hands. 

Armin doubles over in laughter and you wave to the driver, shouting “Thank you!” as he gets back into his car to meet the already-green light. Jean is unspeakably furious and embarrassed, and Eren could not be happier about it. Eren forfeits, Jean misses on his first shot (therefore losing his chance at a stuffed alligator) and subsequently forfeits as well out of spite, and there, the game of mini golf ends. 

After mini golf, roller coasters are up next on the itinerary for the four of you. Eren and Jean vow to ride every big roller coaster twice; you vow to ride the best ones just once, and Armin vows to ride the easier ones and hold onto your things while everyone else goes on the ones that scare him. It’s a perfect system. After the sun sets, the group is ready to stuff themselves full of fried food. Funnel cake, fried oreos, bratwursts, and lemonade are on the menu. And then finally, it’s time for your favorite part of the evening: carnival games. 

Your strategy is to spend a lot at a few booths, rather than a little at a lot of the booths, figuring that the practice you get from repeated rounds means that you would have a better chance of winning. One of the first games you indulge in is the ring toss, which promises a goldfish in a clear plastic bag to any lucky winners. “It would be so cool to win a fish,” Armin says, and you purchase a bucket of rings for the four of you to share. By the time the bucket is empty, you all end up with a group total of three rings around the empty soda bottles.When the dust settles, Armin says, “Alright, who’s taking them?” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “Um. Aren’t you?” 

“What? No.” 

“You’re the one that said it would be cool to win a fish, Armin!” 

“Yeah, it would be cool to win. It wouldn’t be cool to suddenly have a fish, much less three.” He looks at Eren. “Where the hell would we keep three goldfish? We can’t take these.” 

“Yeah, one of the two of you has to take them,” Eren says. “I don’t want to deal with a bunch of fish.” 

“What? I don’t want them!” Jean whines. And just like that, the prize that had been so tantalizing is now the most annoying chore of the evening. 

“Well, neither do I!” you say. “Can’t you take them, Jean? I don’t think Marco would care.” 

“I know he wouldn’t, dummy.  _ I _ care.” 

“Jean, just do the right thing and take them,” Eren says. 

“How is this the right thing to do?” 

“You could get them a nice tank,” Armin says. “Fish like this usually die in a few days. You could totally save their lives or something.” 

“ _ They’re just fish! _ ” 

“Okay, okay.” You wave your hands. “Jean, I’ll take one of them if you take the other two.” 

Jean groans. “That’s not better.” 

“ _ Jean _ .” 

“Oh, fine!” Jean looks like a petulant child as the carnie working the ring toss booth hands him two tickets and one to you, saying, “You can come back here and claim them before you leave so you don’t have to carry them around.” 

Now that the ring toss fiasco is over, the game you’re the most interested in is a shooter game, because it has the most beautiful enormous stuffed bear as a grand prize-- six feet tall and as many wide, a beautiful pinkish-purple color, and adorned with a big red bow around its neck. It’s the most wonderful thing you’ve ever seen, and you must have it. 

At first, your boys play the game with you, but after they keep losing, they all three eventually get sick of it. You’re not giving up, though. Of all of the little metal horses that gallop gently in the background, there’s one all the way in the back that’s particularly small and moves in a particularly frustrating way, but if you manage to hit it? Instant grand prize. 

Your friends are getting increasingly frustrated with you because this is starting to take forever. You’ve hit three of the regular horses at this point: enough for a lesser bear, and as such not enough to satisfy you. You spend another five dollars to go for a fifth round with the little metal horses. The tinny music of the game fires up again as you start shooting. As you go, you hit two additional regular horses, which recaptures the attention of your entourage, and they start watching you play more intently. You’re on a roll now. 

And then, the unthinkable happens. Just as time is starting to run out, you take yet another shot at the tiny grand prize horse all the way in the back. You can almost see the tiny silver pellet sail gracefully through the air, directly toward your target, and knock it over. 

The reaction is immediate. Your once-reluctant spectators all cheer wildly, eager to share in your hard-earned victory. Out of the commotion, the carnie working the shooting game delivers to you the ultimate grand prize in his booth: that big, beautiful stuffed bear. Your dream has come true. 

The remaining tickets you had from the regular-sized horses go towards trading for smaller stuffed bears of a similar style for each of your boys (Armin now has two stuffed animals: the bear, and the alligator from mini golf). 

This signals the end of the night. It’s getting late anyway-- past ten o-clock-- and you’re all pretty tired, having been there for hours. On your way out, you stop by the ring toss booth again so that you and Jean can claim your fish. 

Once Jean is handed a plastic bag with two fish, he looks significantly less reluctant to be becoming a sudden foster parent. Hauling your giant bear on your back, you hand the carnie working the booth your single ticket. It’s a different carnie from before, and you know it when he speaks. 

He hands you a bag with two fish in it instead of the one that your ticket warranted, and says in a thick Russian accent, “You only have one, but I give you two as well.” He winks at you, smiling a big smile with several missing teeth. 

_ Is this carnie trying to charm me?  _ “Oh, thank you!” you say diplomatically and sweetly, then turn around to retreat back into the company of your friends, who just had the extraordinary pleasure of witnessing that bizarre interaction. 

It’s a serious chore figuring out how to transport all four of you plus your enormous prize back to campus in Eren’s car. It’s not a terribly small car, but it’s small enough that the bear won’t really fit in the main compartment with the four of you without compromising the driver’s vision. You just manage to stuff it into the trunk, and even then it barely fits. 

For the ride home, you sit in the backseat with Jean as Armin sits shotgun to Eren. Armin has drifted off into a nap and Eren has decidedly directed his entire focus at the busy road when you ask Jean, “What’re you going to name them?” 

Jean is holding up the bag close to his face, almost like he’s trying to make eye contact with the little buddies. “I’m not sure yet, but I’m thinking Bill and Ted.” 

“Oh, that’s so cute!” 

“It’s like the costumes that Marco and I did for Halloween last year.” 

“Yes, I understood.” 

“Well, what are you naming yours?” 

You shrug. “I don’t think I’m going to give them individual names. I think I’d rather just refer to them collectively as the Lads.” 

Jean smiles at you and chuckles through his teeth. “What the fuck?” 

You laugh too. “I don’t know!” 

“Ugh.” Jean puts the bag of fish down in his lap. “I’m so fucking tired.” 

You tilt your head. “I’m not.” 

“Really? How?” 

“I don’t know. I feel really good right now. Like I could take on the world.” 

Jean grunts, then turns his head to look out the window. 

You  _ do _ feel really good. You feel incredibly powerful, coasting off of the high of winning your beloved giant stuffed bear. And you really  _ are _ full of energy. You feel like you could run a mile without even breaking a sweat. 

In the quiet noise of Eren’s car skipping along the road in the darkness, you let your thoughts drift. Tomorrow, you have plans to go to dinner and a movie with Levi. The thing is, though, you don’t really want to go home right now. Your apartment feels too boring right now, especially considering that lately, Sasha sleeps at Connie’s place more often than she sleeps at yours. You don’t want to go home to an empty apartment with no one there to share in your victories of the night. So, you’d like to see Levi tonight. Nothing wrong with that.  _ That’s the only thing that could possibly make this night even better than it already is, _ you think. 

You pull your phone out and send off a text to Levi:  _ Are you home? _

You receive a reply after about thirty seconds:  _ Yes. _

You nod to yourself and say to Eren, softly so as not to disturb the sleeping Armin: “Hey Eren? Could you actually drop me off at Levi’s place instead of mine?” 

Eren makes eye contact with you in the rear-view mirror and smirks. “Sure thing.” He pumps his eyebrows at you twice. 

You roll your eyes. “Oh, what?” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Eren says innocently, turning his attention back to the road. 

“And do you think I could leave my giant bear with you for now and I’ll come get it tomorrow? I’ll take my fish, though.” 

“Anything you need.” 

You pucker your lips to the side. Eren’s right. Now that you know you’re about to see your boyfriend, you know exactly what it is that you want from him. You fire off another text: 

_ I’m coming over. Be there in 15. I want you in bed ready for me by the time I get there. _

~~~

Levi is sitting on the couch in his bedroom, listening to Farlan ranting about his patients, when he gets your first text and pulls out his phone temporarily to tell you that yes, he is home. 

“Levi, are you even listening?” Farlan asks indignantly. 

Levi sighs quietly. “Yes, I am listening.” 

“Okay, then what did I just say?” 

“Um… you were talking about Brianna’s thing with her brother.” 

“Her  _ step _ -brother, Levi. Pay attention.” 

“Fine, Farlan, yes. I am fucking paying attention.” 

“Good. So apparently he’s trying to get her to move back in with him, even though her mom is…” 

Farlan’s words trail off in Levi’s mind when his phone vibrates again. 

_ I’m coming over. Be there in 15. I want you in bed for me by the time I get there. _

His eyes widen. 

“Um,  _ hello? _ ” 

Levi looks up. 

“If you don’t want to listen, just say so. Where are you right now?” 

“I’m…” Levi shakes his head quickly. “Farlan, get out.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah, get out. Now.” 

“Like, out of the apartment?” 

“Yes.” Levi stands up and walks through the apartment gathering some of Farlan’s stuff. 

“Jesus, man. I’ll stop talking about my patients. I didn’t mean to piss you off.” 

“What? No, it’s not that. I need you to get out because (y/n)’s coming over.” 

“What, now?” 

“Yes. I have… thirteen minutes, now. Give or take.” 

“Levi, it’s so late. I don’t want to leave right now. I can hang out with you guys, can’t I?” 

Levi comes back into the living room where Farlan is still sitting down. “No, you cannot. Farlan, I have a very strong feeling that I’m about to have the craziest sex of my life, and I can’t focus on that if  _ you’re _ puttering around in the fucking kitchen.” Levi grabs onto Farlan’s shoulders and heaves him to his feet against his will, then thrusts items into his hands, announcing them as he goes: “Jacket, keys, wallet, phone. Now, get out.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Farlan curses as Levi starts pushing him out of the apartment. “What the fuck am I supposed to do right now?” 

“Like I fucking care. I have… eleven minutes. Just get out. Go hang out with Isabel or something. She’s probably home. Call her.” 

“What, just out of nowhere on a Saturday night?” 

“Sure, why not?” 

Farlan turns around to face Levi, temporarily halting his exile. “No, dude. I don’t want to scare her off.” 

“Why would that scare her off? And what, exactly, would it scare her off from?” Levi asks knowingly. “Aren’t you two each other’s best friends?” 

Farlan frowns and looks away. 

“Yeah, I got your number.” Levi spins Farlan back around by his shoulders and continues pushing him through the last couple yards of the apartment. “You’re wasting my time.” 

“This is so stupid. Wait, when can I come back?” 

“I don’t know! I’ll text you!” Levi shoves Farlan out of the door and kicks his shoes after him. “Goodbye, Farlan!” He slams the door in his face. 

Levi pulls out his phone to check the time. He has an estimated nine minutes, and wouldn’t you know it, he also has two other texts from you. 

_ Leave the door unlocked. _ And then, a couple minutes later: 

_ I want to see that you’re ready for me. Send a pic.  _

“Send a pic…” Levi whispers to himself. 

Luckily, Levi’s compulsive cleaning and tidying habits mean that in a pinch like this, he doesn’t have to worry about his apartment or bedroom being a mess. Quickly, he unlocks the doorknob and main lock and undoes the deadbolt of the front door of his apartment. He passes into the kitchen, finding a half-drunk cup of water. He downs the water and puts the cup in the sink. Levi then darts into his bedroom and opens the top drawer of his bedside table where a tin of spearmint Altoids are kept. He takes one out, impatiently starts to chew it, and flops down on his back onto the middle of the bed. He sits up, peels his shirt off, tosses it aside, and lays back down. 

Levi takes his phone back out of the pocket of his black joggers.  _ Send a pic. _ He has six minutes left. Levi pulls his pants and underwear down just below his hips and takes his cock in hand. He’s already half-hard from the excitement, and with just a few slow strokes, he’s fully erect. 

With a hissing inhale, Levi grips firmly at the base of his cock with one hand, and starts to roll circles over the tip with his opposite index finger, teasing out droplets of precum. Once there’s enough to be clearly visible to a camera, he opens the camera of his phone, holds his phone up to his face, and takes a photo, holding his cock in one hand with his index finger poised just above the tip, showing off a string of sticky precum. 

He immediately sends the photo to you, and after about half a minute, he gets a response: 

_ Good boy. _

When he reads that, Levi lets out a soft moan, starting to stroke his cock again. He gets another text: 

_ Here. Coming up now.  _

With this, Levi puts his phone to sleep and sets it face down on his bedside table. He achingly teases his cock for the minute it takes you to come up to his apartment, and the breath catches in his chest when he hears the door open. 

You don’t announce yourself when you arrive, but all the same, Levi can hear you taking off your shoes and setting some stuff down on the kitchen counter on your way to his bedroom. He’s hyper-aware of every little sound you make. 

You walk through his wide-open bedroom door with a confident smirk on your lips. “Aw…” you coo, your eyes drifting to Levi’s cock, which is now standing fully erect even without his hand there to hold it. “Is somebody eager?” 

Levi nods, swallowing. 

You approach the bed and sit down at the edge, starting to run your hands up and down his torso and stomach. “Use your words.” 

He nods again, sighing deeply at your touch. “Yes.” 

You swing your legs underneath yourself to kneel, and grab onto his face roughly with one hand. “Yes what?” 

“Yes, I’m eager.” 

“Good…” You ever-so-delicately start to trace your index finger around the rim of his cock. “I think… you’re going to call me mistress.” 

“Okay.” 

Displeased, you give his cheek a short slap. “You’ll say, ‘Yes, mistress.’” 

Levi exhales deeply, leaning his head back into the pillow. “Yes, mistress.” 

You give him a devilish smile. “Good boy.” 

You quickly pull off your sweater, revealing a black lacy bra. Automatically, Levi’s hand reaches out to caress the side of your breast. When it makes contact, you grab his wrist with one hand and pin it down over his head, leaning over him to look in his face. “Did I say that you could touch me?” 

Levi’s eyes shine with excitement and a touch of fear. “No.” 

“No who?” 

“No, mistress.” 

“You’re catching on.” Your left hand keeps Levi’s arm pinned down above his head, and your right hand wraps around his cock and starts to give it slow, firm strokes, rolling your thumb over the tip with each pump. Levi groans and turns his head to the side, his nose pressing into the crook of his pinned-down arm and his teeth baring as his eyes shut. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” you say. 

“Yes, mistress.” 

“Tell me what you want.” 

Levi sighs. “I want more.” 

“What’s  _ more _ ?” 

He exhales deeply. “I want you to go faster.” 

“Hm… I’ll think about it.” You don’t pick up the pace; if anything, you slow down, and it makes Levi whine. The hand uncaptured by yours clenches and unclenches repeatedly, craving motion and touch. “You make such pretty little sounds, baby.” 

You let go of his cock momentarily and Levi barely has time to gasp before you’re grabbing onto his face again, turning his head to face you. “I want you to look at me.” 

“Yes, mistress.” 

Once his eyes lock on yours, you let go of his wrist and replace your right hand on his face with your left, resuming the slow, teasing strokes with your right. You get to watch each flash of pleasure cross Levi’s striking gray eyes, and it makes your pussy start to throb. Pleased, you let out a soft, low humming sound and start to jerk his cock more quickly. 

At the change, Levi immediately lets out a high pitched moan, and his eyes start to flicker with desperation as his jaw hangs open. “Yeah, you like that don’t you, baby boy?” 

“Yes, mistress,” he breathes. 

“Louder. I want to hear you.” 

“Yes, mistress!” he moans. 

You start to jerk his cock at a furious pace, never forgetting to pay special attention to the tip every few strokes. With each exhale, Levi lets out another moan, and though you aren’t looking down there, you can feel your hand getting sticky with precum. 

Levi groans. “Oh, my God. Fuck. I’m gonna cum…” 

Right away, you take your hand off of his cock, and watch as Levi’s eyes light up with betrayal before they shut. 

“No… no… Why did you stop? Why did you stop…” He whines. 

“You’ll cum when I let you, and not a moment sooner,” you say lowly. You hop off the bed to take off your jeans, underwear, and bra. Out of the corner of your eye you just barely see Levi’s arm lift, and you add: “And don’t you fucking dare touch yourself.” 

Levi groans and buries his face in both hands. 

“Aw, you were so close, weren’t you baby?” you coo. 

“Yeah,” Levi breathes, his hands still covering his face. 

Now completely nude, you cross to the foot of the bed and reach your hands to Levi’s hips, grab onto his joggers and boxers, and slowly pull them off then toss them aside. “You’re just so fucking horny that you can’t help yourself, huh? I bet you just want to jerk yourself off and shoot hot cum all over the place. Make a real big fucking mess, huh?” You climb onto the bed from the foot and crawl to straddle Levi. 

“Yes,” he says, both hands still covering his face. 

You grab onto one wrist with each of your hands and slam them down on the pillow behind his head, then look in his eyes. 

“Yes, mistress,” he frantically corrects. 

You grin. “That’s what I like to hear.” Levi’s eyes scan your naked body. “What is it, baby? Tell me what you want.” 

“I want you, mistress.” 

You stretch your left hand from pinky to thumb to hold both of Levi’s wrists down with one hand, then move your right hand to start toying with your clit, juices flowing from your pussy. “You want me to do  _ what _ , baby boy?” 

Levi whines and gyrates his hips. “I want you to make me cum, mistress. Please fuck me.” His eyes drift to your hand working your clit. “Fuck. Please let me touch you.” 

“Look at me.” 

Levi lifts his eyes to meet yours, his face flushed red like a strawberry. You hold his cock with your right hand and tilt your hips to lightly grind his tip against your entrance, earning a loud, low moan from Levi. 

“How much do you want me?”

“So much, mistress.” 

“Tell me. I want to hear you fucking beg.” 

Levi whines sharply. “I want you to fuck me so fucking bad, mistress. I want to cum. I want to feel your pussy around my cock. Please,  _ please _ fuck me, mistress.” 

You keep grinding your entrance around the tip of his cock. “And I’m the only one you want.” 

“You’re the only one I want, mistress.” 

“No one else gets to fuck you. No one else in the world makes you feel like I do.” 

“Yes, mistress.” 

“You fucking belong to me. You’re  _ mine. _ ” 

“I’m yours, mistress.” 

You give his cock a few strong tugs. “Who does this fucking cock belong to?” 

“My cock belongs to you, mistress.” 

You smile. “Good boy.” Swiftly, you line his cock up at your entrance and take him in all at once, with one elastic movement of your hips. Levi cries out in ecstasy and, towering over him, you start to ride him, repeatedly pounding your hips down over his cock. You keep toying with your clit with your right hand. “Does that feel good, baby?” 

Levi can barely choke out a response through his moans. “Yes. Fuck. Yes, it feels so fucking good, mistress.” 

“That’s what I like to hear, baby. I love hearing those pretty little moans of yours.” 

Before long, Levi is saying, “I’m gonna cum. I wanna cum. Please, can I cum, mistress?” 

“No.” You stop playing with your clit to put your hand around his neck and squeeze from the sides. “Hold it. You don’t cum until I do.” 

“I can’t- I can’t-” 

“Don’t you fucking dare come.” 

“I can’t hold it. I can’t-  _ oh, fuck! _ ” Levi’s hips buck up into you and his arms tremble as you feel hot cum pouring into your pussy. You take him in down to his base and stop riding, watching his flushed face wash over with pleasure. 

After his orgasm passes, you say, “I thought I told you not to cum.” 

“I couldn’t hold back,” Levi answers in between pants. “I’m sorry.” 

You just look at him. “You will be.” 

Levi meets your eyes and says, “What?” right as you start grinding your pussy on his cock again. “Oh, God. Oh, fuck.” 

“I still need to come,” you say. 

“Oh, fuck, it’s so sensitive,” Levi whines. “Please. Please no more. I’ll make you come.” 

“Yes, you fucking will.” You start to pound your hips into his even harder and release his neck to rub your clit. 

“Oh my God,” he says, voice trembling and body twitching from overstimulation. “So fucking sensitive. Feels so fucking good… Too much. I can’t handle it…” 

“You’ll fucking take it. You’ll fucking take it till I come.” 

Levi cries out, almost sounding like he’s on the verge of tears. You feel your orgasm start to build. Despite trying to maintain a calloused and dominant appearance, you start to moan softly. Levi responds to it right away, his hips bucking up into yours, practically involuntarily. 

You’re just starting to hit your peak when Levi moans, “Oh my God, I’m gonna fucking cum again…” 

That’s enough to send you over the edge. You keep riding his cock through your orgasm until Levi starts to scream out and you feel his cock twitching like mad inside you. 

As your orgasm fades, so does your dominance, and you practically fall off of Levi and next to him in the bed as he once again covers his face with both hands. You take a minute to catch your breath before you turn to look at him. You roll onto your side and lovingly rub his chest and shoulder with your hand. With your other hand, you gently take one of his hands off of his face and kiss his knuckles. His one uncovered eye opens to meet yours. You raise your eyebrows in concern. “Did I go too far? Was that too much?” 

Levi makes a sound that’s half-sigh, half-laugh. “That was… I can’t even think. That was good. That was… very, very good.” His breathing starts to slow. 

“Good.” You smile. “That was good for me too.” You pepper his face with his kisses and he uncovers the other half of his face, letting his arm fall lazily to his other side. 

“Just…” he starts to say. 

“What?” 

“I just… I need you to hold me now, if you would. Just until I… recover.” 

Your heart melts in the best way. “Oh. Of course, babyface. Anything you want.” 

You pull the covers out from under you and throw them over the two of you. You prop yourself up on one of the pillows and pull Levi in against you to rest his head on your chest. Without really trying to, you have both fallen asleep like this in a matter of minutes. 

Levi does not remember to text Farlan that it’s safe to come home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ferals and cryptids, i present to you *trumpet fanfare* sub levi! hope you enjoyed. after all, i couldn't make that joke when you met isabel a few chapters ago and then just not write it later on.   
> i thought we could all use a nice happy interlude full of humor, fluff, and smut, especially after the tension last chapter. i'll be getting back to the primary storyline next week though. and in the meantime, a few days ago i published a deleted scene in the extras (the other work defined in this series). check it out if you'd like!   
> see y'all next week!


	19. BONUS: Valentine's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy sunday, and more importantly, happy valentine's day! as i type this i'm eating chocolates my mom mailed to me a few days ago. i know i said last week that i would get back to the main plot today, but i was worried that the chapter i planned on publishing today was not terribly... shall we say, valentine's day-appropriate. so since a lot of people in the comments wanted nipple piercings and porn, well, nipple piercings and porn i shall give you. the things i do for you guys. and i'm not even getting paid.   
> well, i'm happy to do it, and i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

“Okay, close your eyes.” 

You do, grinning with anticipation. Levi’s careful, gentle hands brush your hair aside and you feel a thin chain encircle your neck. His fingertips brush against your collarbone as he adjusts the placement of the necklace. 

“Alright, open ‘em.” 

You do, and immediately look down, then gently pick up the main pendant strung on the silver chain. It’s a circular, sparkling aquamarine gem embedded in silver. “Oh Levi, it’s beautiful. What stone is this?” 

“It’s blue Zircon.” Levi wraps both arms around your waist. “It’s… my birthstone.” 

Your shoulders slump and you turn to Levi with stars in your eyes. “Oh, wow.” 

Levi half-grimaces. “Is it too much?” 

“No,” you shake your head quickly. “It’s so sweet. I love it. You’re so adorable.” Holding the gem between your thumb and index finger, you wrap your other hand around the back of Levi’s head and give him a big kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you too. Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

This is the second Valentine’s Day that you’ve celebrated with Levi, and this time around is much less anxiety-inducing than the first. Last year, you didn’t have any idea what you were supposed to do because you’ve never been in a relationship on Valentine’s Day-- Sasha told you that boys melt when you give them flowers, so you did that. She also suggested that you and her go shopping for fun, special lingerie… you did that too. It was a good night. 

Levi was also not entirely sure what he was supposed to do-- sure, he’s been with people on Valentine’s Day before, but his past relationships have not been the best, so he was just as anxious as you were. He figured that it was a safe bet to go with a cliched Valentine’s Day gift, but he wasn’t sure which one he should get you, so he just got you all of them. There was a stuffed bear with a red ribbon around its neck, a dozen red roses in a heart-shaped arrangement, a box of chocolates, and even a bottle of perfume. It was completely ridiculous, but also, as is Levi’s way, completely adorable. 

This year, you have two gifts for Levi. The first is a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. The second is a much longer story-- a plan nearly three months in the making that Levi is also privy to and has been anticipating with bated breath. 

Nearly three months ago, in late November, you got the piercing itch-- a very powerful desire to get an additional piercing. This impulse is very difficult to fight, especially when your boyfriend is a piercer himself and is always in favor of you and anybody else doing whatever the hell they want to their body-- whatever will make them happy. So, there were several motivations at work during this time: the desire to get a piercing, the desire to interact with the boyfriend, and the desire to please the boyfriend. One day, when you were researching different types of body piercings, it hit you like a bolt of lightning-- nipple piercings. 

Nipple piercings would be perfect. They would satisfy the piercing itch, they would be intimate to get done, and they would be oh-so-sexy once they were healed enough to play with. Levi tried to act perfectly calm and professional when you told him that you wanted him to pierce your nipples, but the idea was very obviously flipping a secret switch in his brain. Once you both resolved to do this, the wheels went into motion very quickly, and on a rainy November Friday, you went into the Tattooery to get them done. 

“You’re absolutely sure you want to do this?” Levi confirmed as you sat down in the piercing chair. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

“And you understand that this is going to put those things completely out of commission for a month?” 

“Yes, yes, I understand. Jesus. Are you trying to talk me out of it?” 

“Definitely not.” 

You giggled. “Then let’s get this fuckin’ show on the road.” 

“Alright then. Shirt off, (l/n).” 

While Levi prepped his work station, you confidently peeled off your sweater and the soft cotton bralette that you’d been very firmly instructed to wear. 

Levi turned back around, equipped with latex gloves and a felt pen. “Alright, stand on up.” 

You did, but asked, “Why?” 

“Well, as I’m sure you’re aware, tits behave differently when you’re lying down versus when you’re standing up. So you’ll lay down for the actual piercings, but when I make the marks, you have to be standing up, otherwise they won’t be symmetrical or horizontal.” 

You laughed nervously. “Okay.” 

Levi approached, bent down in front of you, and cleaned your nipples with an antiseptic wipe, then gently placed his left hand on your right breast to make piercing markings with the marker in his opposite hand. With Levi’s face so close to your breast, you felt yourself getting uncontrollably turned on, and watched as your nipple grew hard from the contact of Levi’s fingertips. 

“You’d better cut that shit out right now,” Levi said as he finished the markings on your first nipple. 

You laughed. “Cut  _ what _ out? I can’t control it.” 

“I can’t focus if you keep looking at me like that.” He straightened up. 

“What, am I not supposed to look at you?” 

“No, you’re not, actually. Everyone else avoids eye contact with me.” 

“Well, I’m not everyone else, am I?” This was not the first time that Levi’s other clients have come up. You made your peace with the fact that Levi routinely sees and interacts with other peoples’ nipples, genitals, and the like, some of whom are most likely attractive. It’s a good thing that you’re not a jealous person. 

“No, you’re not. You’re worse.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Hold still.” Levi went back down to mark up your other nipple. “People get weird with me all the time. But when strangers try to flirt with me, it just doesn’t really affect me.  _ You _ , on the other hand, are potentially distracting. I don’t want to fuck up.” 

“Oh, I’m just that distracting?” You teased. “Are my boobs just  _ that  _ alluring to you?” 

Levi finished marking your other nipple and straightened back up with a huff. “(Y/n), I swear I’m going to lose my shit on you,” he said, trying really hard to sound domineering but succeeding only in sounding frazzled. “I am trying to do my job. If you keep flirting with me, I will lose my concentration and fuck up. Just… try to be professional.” 

“Alright,” you relented, biting back a smile. 

“Okay, good. Now lie down.” 

You did. “Sorry about it. I just can’t help getting flirty with you.” 

Levi sighed. “I understand. You’re going to feel differently, though, after this is done.” 

“Really? I don’t think so.” 

“Well, I do. I’m the professional here. You’ll see. Immediately after getting nipple piercings is not a sexy time.” 

“Hm… I disagree.” 

Levi shook his head, then approached you with a needle, a pair of forceps, and a little titanium barbell. “Alright, let’s start taking some deep breaths. Big breath in… and out.” Levi clamped the forceps down on either side of your nipple, lining up the holes with the markings he made earlier. “In… and out.” He lined up the needle with the outer hole. “One more. In… and out.” 

As you blew out through puckered lips, the needle went through. The effect was two-pronged. First: there was a strong pinch that was much more painful than any other piercing you’ve gotten. Second: there was the visceral reaction in your entire body that something essential to reproduction and motherhood was being damaged and, indeed, your sexual energy vanished as a consequence. 

“Keep breathing. In… and out.” On this exhale, the needle was replaced by the little barbell. “Alright, one down,” Levi said. 

“Okay,” you said, breathlessly. 

The second one was not quite as bad since you knew what was coming, but it was still quite painful as far as piercings go. When the other side was done, Levi said, “Stay down for just a bit so I can clean them again.” 

“Okay.” 

A room-temperature saline solution was sprayed over each of your nipples, and then they were gently patted dry with a tissue. Following this, gauze was taped over both of your nipples. “Alright, you can sit up now,” Levi said. “You did good.” 

You sat up slowly and turned your head to look at your chest in the mirror. Indeed, it was not sexy. Gauze on the nipples is not sexy, not to mention the recent assault to the nipples themselves. 

Levi watched you stare at yourself, a look of amusement on his face. “Still horny?” 

You shook your head. “No.” 

“Mm-hmm. What did I tell you?” 

“You told me. You told me, and I didn’t listen.” 

Levi shrugged. “Water under the bridge.” 

Levi then instructed you about how you were to take care of your piercings going forward. They needed to be cleaned twice a day for the next year, even if it seems like they’ve finished healing, and for a while you needed to be wearing soft cotton bras like the one you brought today. The most jarring part of this, however, was that for three months, you (and Levi, for that matter) needed to avoid touching them at all costs other than to clean them. 

It’s been nearly three months since the piercings. Theoretically, you should probably wait another couple of weeks before even considering attempting nipple play with the new piercings, but Valentine’s Day is a special occasion. So, later on in the night when you and Levi get back to your apartment from a special Valentine’s Day dinner out, loosened up by bottomless champagne, things get amorous very quickly. 

You’re on your back on the bedspread with Levi pinning you down practically as soon as you’re through the door. Your dress, his shirt, and your bra are off in a flash as he starts to tenderly kiss and suck at the sweet spots of your neck. As has been the way for the past three-ish months, he squeezes your breasts from the outside, carefully avoiding getting within an inch of your nipples. 

Through a sigh, you say, “Levi,” and tap his shoulder with two fingers. He takes his mouth off your neck with a  _ pop _ , looks in your face and says, “What’s up?” 

“I think it’s okay now.” 

“Huh?” 

“You don’t have to keep avoiding my nipples. I think they’re healed enough.” 

Levi sighs. “(Y/n)...” 

“Come on. They want attention.” 

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “We can’t risk you getting an infection just because we’re horny.” 

“Then we’ll be careful. Clean them afterwards and stuff. You said there’s precautions people take, right?” 

“Yeah…” Levi’s resolve crumbles. “Okay, wait here.” 

You sit up in your bed, tits out, while Levi disappears to the bathroom and comes back with a cotton ball and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You frown. “Are you serious?” 

“This is what we have to do,” Levi says, wetting the cotton. 

“Well, if we have to, then we have to.” This is starting to feel like a doctor’s appointment, but at least the stimulation and the cold starts to harden your nipples as Levi cleans the piercings. The internet message boards are right; your nipples do feel more sensitive after getting the piercings. 

“Okay, I’m going to go wash my hands,” Levi says on his way out of your bedroom, then turns back to ask, “Oh, and do you have any mouthwash?” 

“Mouthwash? Um… yeah, under the sink.” 

“Is it alcohol-based?” 

You blink. “I have no idea.” 

Levi sighs. “Alright.” By the time Levi gets back two minutes later, you’re feeling substantially underwhelmed due to the loss of momentum. “What’s wrong?” Levi asks as he sits down next to you in bed. 

“Eh… I just feel weird now, like the moment’s been compromised.” 

“Compromised?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Hm… What to do about that…” Levi rests his hand at the base of your neck, then slowly runs it up to hold the side of your face and leans in close. Just before he kisses you, he pauses, letting you feel the anticipation. His bottom lip gently flicks against your top lip. Your lips part automatically, a short inhale rushing in past your teeth, and Levi kisses you deeply, his nose rubbing against yours and his tongue pushing just past your lips. He pulls back, keeping his face close enough to yours that you can feel it when he blinks and says, “How about now?” 

“That’s better,” you say with a voice crack. How enchanting it is to be with someone for over a year and still be completely helpless to the butterflies they give you. 

Levi moves back in to kiss you again, and this time you attack each other’s mouths like it’s the only thing keeping you alive. You throw your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips, pulling him in to grind against you. You can already feel his erection growing in his pants, rubbing against your pussy through your underwear. You’re incredibly impatient, so you grind your hips into his further, eliciting a low groan from deep in the back of Levi’s throat. He pulls his face away from yours and wraps his hands around the tops of your thighs, pulling you down the bed to lay on your back. He buries a hand in your hair and pulls; your neck is exposed to him as you gasp. Levi peppers your neck with kisses, quickly moving on to your collarbone, and then to your breasts. He bites at the sensitive skin at the top, then his mouth pauses just for a moment above your left nipple. He rolls his thumb over it just once, and you let out a small whimper. His eyes flick up to yours for an instant, then he looks back down and starts to circle his tongue around your pierced nipple. 

You sigh deeply, closing your eyes and leaning your head back into the pillow. As Levi works your left nipple with his mouth, he pinches your right between two fingers, pulling gently and making both of them more sensitive by the second. You can feel the hard metal of your piercings moving slightly under your skin, keeping your nipples lifted closer to Levi’s mouth and hands. Your ears heat up and you feel yourself growing desperate between your legs. You grab onto Levi’s hair with one hand and pull his mouth off of your nipple, then pull his face into yours to kiss him hungrily. With your other hand, you reach down and grab at his now-throbbing bulge through his pants. 

Levi hisses and goes to unbuckle his pants, and you hastily pull your underwear off and toss them aside. Now completely naked, Levi strokes his pulsing cock with one hand and puts the other at the base of your neck. Then, he goes to toy with your clit, and when he does, you can feel how wet you are from the stimulation to your nipples. His fingers glide around your pussy effortlessly. Then, without a warning, he positions himself at your entrance and plunges his cock inside you, all the way down to the base in one swift motion. 

You groan sharply at the sensation of being suddenly filled, especially without being fingered first. Your pussy rhythmically clenches around him, and he barely gives you time to adjust to his size before he starts pumping in and out of you-- slowly, teasingly. At the same time, he runs slow circles around your clit. 

The teasing drives you crazy, and before you know it, you’re whimpering nonsensically, begging for him to go faster, fuck you harder, take you, make you cum. Levi pauses momentarily and lifts your legs to rest on his shoulders, then pins his forearms on either side of you. Then, and only then, does he start to fuck you relentlessly, pounding into your g-spot with every thrust. At the new pace, you feel yourself quickly approaching orgasm. 

Your clit is begging to be touched, but you don’t have the motor control in the moment to do anything about it, so your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you can feel every spasm rocking through your clit. Levi doesn’t slow his pace for a second, making you scream as your walls clench around his cock. It feels like your orgasm goes on forever, and by the time you finally come down from it, you notice Levi’s shoulder starting to twitch, and you know he’s close. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” you tease, your legs trembling from overstimulation. Levi buries his face in your neck and bites down on your shoulder, a low moan running through his throat. “Cum for me, baby. Fucking cum inside me, baby. I need your cum…” 

With a sharp cry, Levi plunges his cock inside you as far as he can get it, and you feel him spasming inside you as he shoots hot cum deep into your pussy. You pepper his face with kisses as he keeps twitching from his neck and shoulders. 

When his orgasm passes, Levi gingerly pulls his cock out of you and looks down. “Oh, woah,” he says. 

“What?” you breathe. 

“Look.” 

You look down, shimmying your hips out of the way. Your bedspread is drenched, and you gasp. “Oh my God.” 

“I didn’t know you could do that.” 

“Me neither.” You smile tiredly. “I guess you just bring that out in me.” 

Levi chuckles and lays down next to you, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Happy Valentine’s Day to me.” 

You laugh. “Happy Valentine’s, Levi.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i hope this was at least okay. and next week i am FOR SURE getting back to the plot. also please note that in the future when people have requests for this story i probably won't return a chapter about them nearly as quickly as i did this one. i just happened to need a filler chapter for this weekend.   
> ALSO-- it has come to my attention that there is a tiktok out there that recommends this story. if anyone sees it, please do me a huge favor and tag me @bokutos.maracas in the comment section. i really really really want to see it. it would be a birthday present for me, since i turn twenty in two days. sheesh. that's right-- the next time you guys hear from me, i'll be... in my twenties.   
> yikes. see you next week!


	20. DELTA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy sunday!   
> ... i got nothin to say. enjoy the chapter!   
> or not!

You wake up in Levi’s bed, the warm, inviting sunlight of early March filtering in through the window slats and nudging your eyes open. That was one of the best sleeps of your life, and though the white sheets are soft and clean, and they smell like you and Levi and last night’s sex, you’re ready to leave them and wander into the main rooms of the apartment to find where your lover has gone. You slowly sit up and stretch your shoulders and arms, then gingerly roll out of bed, cracking your back along the way. Due to the circumstances under which you fell asleep, you’re just wearing a tank top and a pair of Levi’s boxers-- no bra or panties. And of course, since you slept that way, you have to pause and put your breasts back inside the tank top. They have a mind of their own when you sleep in tank tops. You pull a hair tie off your wrist and tie up your bed head into a messy bun, then venture out of the bedroom. 

Waiting for you in the kitchen, leant against the kitchen counter in black joggers and no shirt, is Levi. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he greets you softly, sipping a mug of black coffee. 

“Hey,” you say with a sigh, then approach to wrap your arms around his bare waist and give him a good-morning kiss. He tastes like sleep and stale coffee, but you don’t care. In fact, you like it. It’s him. 

You hold yourself close to him, the steam of his coffee opening the pores of your face and he asks, “Coffee?” 

“Yes, please.” 

He pours you a cup while you get the caramel-flavored coffee creamer from the fridge. Levi drinks his coffee black and Farlan, who is currently at a weekend conference to be returning this evening, prefers energy drinks in a pinch. The creamer is kept there just for you, since you’re there in the mornings so often. Once you have your coffee, you and Levi go into the living room to sit down on the couch. You half-sit half-lay on your side, leaning into him as his arm wraps around you and he turns on the television to the morning news. From here, you take your phone off of the coffee table in front of you to check your email. This is the standard routine for the two of you when you wake up in his apartment. 

As you’re checking your email, there’s the usual automated messages from Shein advertising another in a long line of neverending sales, from the New York Times trying to get you to pay for a student subscription for a dollar a month, and from your school with links to news articles and messages from Deans that it feels are essential. But among the rubble, there is also an email from the Virginia Commonwealth University Admissions Department with the subject line: Admissions Decision. 

You half-gasp half-yelp and chuck your phone to the side and onto the couch. “Oh my God,” you whisper. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Levi asks, sitting up straight and moving his hand from your shoulders to your lower back. 

“VCU.” 

“VCU? What about VCU? Did you get in?” 

“I don’t know. I have an email.” 

“Okay. Did you open it?” 

“No. Not yet.” 

“Okay… Are you  _ going _ to open it?” 

“Yes.” You stand up and walk to the other end of the couch to pick up your phone, but you don’t look at it, instead starting to aimlessly pace around the living room. “I  _ am _ going to look at it. I am.” 

“Okay.” Levi silently watches you grapple with your fear and anticipation for about half a minute, then adds, “Are you really?” 

“I don’t know.” You’re starting to breathe more shallowly. “I just want this so badly.” 

“I know.” 

“This is my whole life. It’s my dream school.” 

“Yes, it is.” 

“I can’t…” You blow air out through puckered lips. “What if they reject me? Oh my God, what if they let me in? Or what if they put me on a waitlist? I can’t. I can’t.” 

“Okay.” Levi stands up and gets in your way to stop you from pacing, then puts his hands on your shoulders. “You need to open this email.” 

“I know. I know I do. But I also know that I absolutely cannot do that right now.” 

“Okay. Do you want me to open it for you?” 

You consider this, then answer breathlessly, “Yeah.” 

“Okay.” He gently but firmly takes your phone from you, then sits down on the couch while you stay standing, hands pressed against your mouth as if in prayer. He knows your passcode, so he can get into your phone without your help. For the few seconds that he navigates to the email and skims its contents, all that can be heard is the soft monotony of the Sunday morning news. Then, he nods very subtly and frowns, his lips puckering to the side. He looks up from your phone and meets your eyes. “You didn’t get in.” 

Your heart plunges into your gut and you nod, your eyes falling. “Okay.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You sigh, shutting your eyes and furrowing your brows. “I really wanted to go there.” 

Levi just nods at you for a few seconds, then says: “Well, that’s good.” 

You scoff, then drop your hands to look at him and say with exasperation, “Why is that good?” 

He smirks at you, barely able to contain himself. “Because you didn’t get rejected. You got in.” 

Your eyes widen. “What? What do you mean?” 

Levi’s mouth breaks into a huge, toothy smile. “I was messing with you. You got in.” 

You breathe hard. “What? I did? I got in?” 

“Yes, you got in! Of course you did.” He puts down your phone and stands up. 

Your voice is full of energy and choked with excitement. “That was so mean! Why would you do that?” 

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t resist.” 

You smile. “I got in? I really got in?” 

“You really got in!” 

You squeal and crash into Levi’s arms, lifting him and twirling him around once in total exaltation. “I got in! I got in!” 

“You got in!” 

You put him down and take his face in both hands, giving him a sloppy, smiling kiss. You lean your foreheads into each other and shut your eyes for a moment, both grinning from ear-to-ear. “I can’t believe I got in. I’m going to Virginia!” 

“You’re going to Virginia!” 

As soon as the words leave your mouth and hit your ears, you remember why this school was a source of such stress just a few months ago. VCU is a thousand miles and two time zones away from Levi. And you know he’s just remembered it too, because without opening your eyes you feel the strength leave his arms, his hands dropping from your middle back to your lower. You purse your lips and feel the apples of his cheeks with both of your thumbs. It feels like someone is reaching through your skin and trying to yank out the muscles of your chest and neck. You think your knees are going to collapse, or that all of your hair is going to fall out, or that you’re going to have a stroke. It isn’t as though you’re leaving tomorrow, but the thought of being taken away from Levi against your will is too much to handle. You shake your head softly, the skin of your forehead rubbing against his. When you finally open your eyes again, you see that he has already done, and his eyes look dim and darkened. 

You meet his eyes for just a second, then drop your hands and walk a few feet away from him to sit down on the couch, elbows leaning on your knees and one hand covering your mouth. You mumble something from behind your hand. 

“What?” 

You drop your hand and look at the floor. “I’m turning it down.” 

“No.” 

“Yes. I’m not going. I can’t.” 

“You can and you will.” 

“No.” 

“Yes! (Y/n)...” Levi crosses to kneel in front of you, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “You can’t give this up. I’m not letting you. This isn’t a good enough reason-” 

“It  _ is _ a good enough reason! I love you and I can’t leave you.” 

“I love you too, but this is the dream program that is going to jumpstart your life. You are not throwing this away because of me. I’m not going to be the reason that you turn this down.” 

You’re getting progressively more upset with each exchange. “But it’s a thousand miles away! That’s two time zones, for two years. I’m going to live there, Levi. I can’t be away from you for that long.” 

“I know how you feel. Look, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and… What if I went with you?” 

“What? What do you mean?” 

“I mean, what if I went with you? I could move with you.” 

You process what he’s saying for a moment, then slowly shake your head. “No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Levi, that’s insane!” You lean back forcefully into the back of the couch with a thump and rub your face with your palm. “We’re not even living together now. We can’t just suddenly move halfway across America to a place where neither of us knows anyone or anything, and expect things to stay the same!” 

“Well, we practically live together now. 90% of the time, if you’re not falling asleep in my apartment, I’m falling asleep in yours. What the hell’s the difference?” 

“There’s a big difference between choosing to be around each other and having no choice. It’s too much.” 

“What, you don’t  _ want  _ to live with me?” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Well then, what the hell  _ did _ you mean?” Levi stands up and takes a few steps away from you to stand beside the sliding glass door to the balcony. 

You sit up. “Look, it would be different if we moved in together now and had a lot of time to get used to that sort of thing, but even then this would be a huge step. That’s the kind of shit married couples do. We’ve only been dating for a year and a half.” 

“What, is that not a long time for you?” 

“Not in the grand scheme of things, it’s not! This is the longest relationship I’ve been in, but even I know that it would be fucking insane for you to come with me to Virginia.” 

“Why is that so fucking insane?” It’s not that Levi’s voice is starting to raise, but that some sort of filter has been lifted. He’s been speaking to you with his timbre on a 300% softness setting, but now, that softness is gone, replaced with blank impersonality. 

“Levi, your life is here. Your job, your family, your roommate-” 

“My family lives in Philadelphia.” 

“I’m talking about Isabel! Not just her, dude. I’m talking about Hanji and Farlan and Mikasa.” 

“It doesn’t matter. It’s fine. I can be away from them. They’re fine.” 

You scoff, and your pitch raises to a whining, morose tone. “They don’t matter? Is this how you treat your long-term relationships?” 

“I said  _ it _ doesn’t matter, not that  _ they _ don’t matter. Don’t fucking twist my words around.” Now, his voice is starting to get a bit loud. 

You involuntarily make a small gasping sound and try to force the prickly tears starting to force their way out of you back into their ducts, to no avail. “That’s not what I was trying to do. That’s not what I meant.” 

An invisible hand shoves Levi’s anger down into the pit of his stomach and he relaxes his shoulders, taking a breath. “I know. I know. I’m just getting frustrated. Look…” He comes back to sit down next to you on the couch again. “It could work. It would be hard, but I think we could move together.” 

“I don’t think so.” You’ve narrowly avoided bursting into tears, and now just shake your head. “It’s too much, too soon. And like I said, your life and your job are here.” 

“It doesn’t matter. This life doesn’t matter. I’ll make a different one in Virginia with you.” 

You grimace. “That doesn’t make me feel better. That really doesn’t sound good.” 

“Why not?” Thinly-veiled frustration is returning to Levi’s voice. “I’m not afraid of it. I’m not afraid of giving myself over to you and being wherever you are. I’m not afraid to commit.” 

“You  _ should _ be afraid. That’s not committing. That’s…” You toss your hands. “That’s putting your whole life in my hands. It’s too much pressure.” You wrap your arms around your middle, avoiding looking at your boyfriend. “I can’t be your whole world like that. I mean, I don’t even really know who I am yet. My life hasn’t even started.” 

“Yeah. Your life… hasn’t started.” He doesn’t say anything else, but you can’t mistake the flicker of hurt that flashes over Levi’s face. 

Your throat starts to constrict again. “That’s not what I meant. You  _ know _ that’s not what I meant.” 

“Well, it’s what you said.” 

“No. I said that it’s  _ me _ that doesn’t have things figured out. That’s not about you. It’s just me. I haven’t landed on my feet yet. I mean, you’re the most stable thing in my life right now. So it wouldn’t just be putting too much pressure on me, it would be putting too much pressure on you. It’s just too much. You get that, right?”

“Okay, okay.” Levi’s voice drops and he raises one hand as if you’ve been barraging him with too much data, the other one massaging his forehead. “Fine. I won’t go. So, what then? You have to leave, I have to stay. Where does that leave us?” 

You sigh. “I could go back and forth…” 

“How often? For how long? Think about it. Is that sustainable? Airline tickets are expensive, and any time you spend here or on an airplane is time not spent on your classes.” 

Annoyance twinges at the back of your head. “I know I have to focus on my classes. I’m the one that applied.” 

“I know. I’m just saying that you need to remember why you’re doing this. It’s not about me, right? It’s about you. And it’s not going to be what you wanted it to be if you’re still keeping yourself half-tethered to your life here.” 

You scoff and stand up, but still speak calmly. “I really don’t need this discussion about priorities. I  _ know _ what my priorities should be. I know who I am. You’re not the boss of me.” You start to pace the living room. 

“And I get that. All I’m saying is that it’s not going to make sense for you to go back and forth. It won’t work, and I think you know that.” 

The impossibility of the situation and your frustration with Levi’s patronizing tone makes you snap. “Well, I can’t just not see you! What the hell am I supposed to do? Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m a child. I know how to self-regulate my time and my money. I don’t need you to fucking  _ look after me _ or some shit.” 

“You don’t need me?” Levi folds his arms across his chest and stares into your soul with fiery hurt. 

“I need-” you inhale sharply. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Levi sighs, then puts his hands on his knees to leverage himself to stand up. “Look, I get that I’m not some brilliant scholar, and I don’t make six fucking figures. My life is what it is. It’s not likely to get much better than this. I know my lot in life. This isn’t enough for you.” 

“What? Where is this coming from?” you say breathlessly. “Not enough? What the hell are you talking about?” 

Something never-before-seen by you seems to boil over from deep within Levi’s soul. “(Y/n), you’re going to fucking grad school. I dropped out of high school and moved the hell out the second I turned eighteen. I’m below you, and everybody knows it.” 

“What?!” 

“Think about it. Does our relationship really make sense to you? When we’re out in public, people are looking at us like we don’t match. They’re thinking, ‘What is that young, completely unscathed academic doing with that… that fucking thirty-year-old street urchin?” That’s what they’re thinking.” 

“Is that what  _ they’re _ thinking or is that what  _ you’re _ thinking?” You pause, and when Levi doesn’t answer, you continue: “Young, completely unscathed… is that how you see me? Helpless? Sheltered? Is that it?” 

“No. I just meant-” 

“I’m not responsible for your insecurities, okay? You can’t put that on me. You made your choices; these are my choices.” 

“I know. I’m just trying to explain.” Levi puts both hands out at you like you’re a bull ready to charge. “I’m saying that right now, we don’t match. And it’s good for you that we don’t match, and I don’t want you to fuck up your life because of me.” 

“Levi, I’m sorry, but it really isn’t my fault that you think that you’re a fuck-up.” 

“Oh, so now I’m a fuck-up?!” 

Your arms gesticulate wildly as you yell in a high-pitched, desperate cry, “ _ That’s what you just said! _ ” You clear your throat and let your voice return to the deep, hard volume that makes for good arguments. “I can’t control how other people see you, and I can’t control how you see yourself. The only thing I have under my purview is how  _ I _ see you. And I see you as being right for me.” 

“I understand that. But other people-” 

“Other people? What about other people? It doesn’t matter. They’re not a part of our relationship. The only people that are a part of our relationship are you and me.” Your anger starts to boil over. “I can’t be responsible for what you  _ think _ other people  _ might _ be thinking about us.”

“I know that. I get that. I just-” 

“Who the hell cares if our relationship doesn’t make sense to other people? It makes sense to us. What does it matter what everyone else thinks? You’re just inventing things to freak out about. How is this ever going to work if you’re just looking in every nook and cranny for reasons to doubt me?” 

“That’s not what I’m-” 

“I’m never going to be able to stay with you if-” 

“ _ Would you let me fucking talk? _ ” Levi shouts, his face red. He shuts his eyes, shakes his head, and drops his tone. “I’m sorry.” 

You shake your head at him, tears in your eyes, and sit back down on the couch. 

“I’m sorry. I lost my temper.” 

“Don’t yell at me,” you say quietly. 

“I’m sorry.” He quickly walks up to the couch and sits down next to you, then tries to put his hand on your shoulder as he says, “I didn’t mean to-” 

“Don’t touch me,” you whisper, jerking your shoulder to knock his hand off and keeping your head steered firmly away from him. 

“Okay. I’m sorry,” Levi says softly, and gives you a few feet of space away from him on the couch, folding his hands in his lap. “I don’t want to fight.” 

“Me neither.” The silence grows between you for half a minute and you take a deep breath, then say, “You know, sometimes people will do long-distance. When there’s a move like this.” 

Levi sighs frustratedly. “(Y/n).” 

“What?” You say desperately, your eyes still full of tears as you look at him. “Is that so crazy? Am I really that crazy for wanting to stay with you?” You blink and frown. “I must be, if you’re looking at me like that.” You smile sarcastically. “I must be completely fucking crazy for wanting to stick around after you fucking yelled at me like that.” 

Levi grimaces for a split second, then brushes past your jab: “You’re not crazy. I didn’t say that. But… It’s hard. Long distance is hard. I don’t think it’s something I can do.” 

“Why not?” Your bottom lip quivers. “Am I so not-enough-for-you that you don’t even want to try it?” 

“That has nothing to do with it. I can’t function in a long-distance relationship. I can’t even consider it, no matter who it is. And I think if you’re being honest with yourself, you know that you can’t do it either. It’ll only drag things out.”

_ He’s right. _ Dejectedly, you stare at the floor and pick at your fingernails. “Yeah…” You shrug, wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm, and glance at Levi for a moment before you look at the floor. “We still have… six months. Before I would have to leave.” 

“Yeah.” For a moment, Levi just listens to your scattered breathing. “I think that… it wouldn’t be healthy for either of us to stay in something that’s… that has an expiration date.” 

You nod and croak, “Yeah.” It was just a desperate Hail Mary. 

“So I think that the smart thing to do would be to just…” 

You laugh sadly and half-smile. “Break up?” 

Levi doesn’t answer, and you force yourself to look at him. The second you see his face, the few painful tears that had been forcing their way from your eyes graduate into full-blown waterworks and your chest starts to convulse. You drop your chin to your chest and sit on your hands. 

Levi sighs, then moves closer to you and tentatively puts one hand on your shoulder. The moment it makes contact, your hands unearth from under your thighs and you throw your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder and getting his skin wet with your tears. He wraps his arms around your waist, using his forearms to hold you close. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear. You shake your head very slightly. 

After a couple minutes, you take a deep breath and force yourself to stop crying. You pull away and rub your eyes with the heels of your palms. “I think I should go.” 

“Yeah.” Levi sighs. “I’ll drive you.” 

“No. I want to walk.” 

Zombie-like, you get up off the couch and gather your things from around the apartment, or at least the things that you can remember in the moment. Phone, hoodie, keys, socks, and you change out of Levi’s boxers and into your own underwear and jeans. Levi stays on the couch and doesn’t watch you, sitting with his elbows on his knees and his fingers drumming on the back of his neck, his face hauntingly steely. 

You put on your shoes by the door, then pause to look back into the apartment. You see Levi still sitting on the couch and you say, “Bye.” 

He doesn’t look at you, instead just lifting one of his hands from the back of his neck to wave once. You tear yourself away, walk through the door, and shut it behind you. 

It takes you more than half an hour to walk back to your apartment; you’re over halfway there when you realize that you left your bra, your phone charger, and a Burt’s Bees lip balm in Levi’s bedroom. You pull your hood up and yank on the strings, trying to disappear within your sweatshirt. 

When you finally get back to your apartment, Sasha is in the kitchen with grocery bags. She hears you enter and starts to talk without turning around as you take off your shoes. “Hey, roomie! Did I tell you that the farmer’s market started back up today? I went and picked up some fruit. Also some apple cider. It’s weird-- I thought they only did that in the fall. I guess maybe they froze some of it-” She turns around and sees you while you’re on your way to your bedroom. “Woah. Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you sullenly croak, then disappear into your bedroom and lock the door. Leaving the lights off, you collapse on your bed and pull your pillow over your head, squeezing it from both sides as if to block out the world. Alone and safe in your cave, another wave of painful, awful sobbing overtakes you. It’s like the tears being expelled are poison that has to be forcibly wrung out from inside you if you ever want to survive. 

The anatomical heart tattooed on your back starts to throb as if the heart itself is actually beating. Long since healed, your skin is in a dull, constricting pain as if you’d just gotten that tattoo yesterday. The ink wants to leap out of your skin and make you bleed. 

_ What did I know, what did I know _

_ of love’s austere and lonely offices?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sure you can understand now why i didn't want to publish this on valentine's day. now, remember a while ago when i asked you guys to trust me? and i said i was going to take this fic to some uncomfy places and if you let me go there it'll make the story that much better? this is the part where you trust me. this is not the end of the story. we're maybe 2/3 of the way through. i know this whole thing started as a light-hearted way to escape the pandemic, but it's evolved past that now.   
> having said that, this week, i also published something new in the extras! i spent like two weeks meticulously curating a playlist for this story, and i have the spotify link posted now. go ahead and check it out!   
> i'll see you all next sunday!


	21. Sweet Hibiscus Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, happy sunday, and welcome to the chapter! please accept this fluffy comfort-type chapter as a gift and also as an apology for what i put you through last week. no levi in this chap but there is lots and lots of jean, who i absolutely love. enjoy!

For four days after the breakup, you’re a complete fucking disaster. It’s very unfortunate that you and Levi broke up on a Sunday, because you have to go to class the next day. Theoretically, anyway. You don’t go to class on Monday, instead electing to spend the day on your couch eating crackers, pasta, and chocolate. After that, in days following, you do in fact go to class, but assignments start falling through the cracks, and just because you’re going to class now doesn’t mean that you’ve showered since before Sunday. 

Today (Thursday) your appearance matches your mental state. Your greasy, tangled hair is tied up in a loose bun and you’re wearing a gigantic stained t-shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been to both of your classes that you needed to get to today, so now that it’s getting into the early evening, you’ve merged with your bed and the assorted Taco Bell wrappers in which you sleep. You alternate between feeling horribly sad and desperate, feeling anxious about school, and feeling absolutely nothing. At this point, on the fourth day, you mostly feel nothing, and it’s awful. 

You haven’t wanted to see anyone, so Sasha has been playing the gatekeeper for you; she is the dragon and you are her horde. She keeps your cell phone away from you when she can so that you don’t look at old photos or contact anyone that you might regret contacting in this state. She also handles the fact that people are texting you right now with whom you have absolutely no interest in speaking. Nobody out of the ordinary-- Eren, Armin, Jean, Marco, Connie, Isabel, Hanji, Farlan, and even Mikasa have all at least sent you a text since Sunday. Jean in particular has been trying to reach you nonstop, but you don’t care to speak with him or look at anyone that isn’t Sasha. You can barely wrap your head around things yourself, let alone try to explain it to anyone else and coddle the fact that they’re worried about you. Sasha answers your texts as is necessary, indicating of course that she is Sasha and not you, to save you from that. 

Sasha has not slept at Connie’s apartment since Sunday, nor has anyone other than her, including him, entered your apartment. Sasha doesn’t really know how to pull you out of your funk, but she trusts that you’re a strong person and that you know how to take care of yourself. Her brand of loving you involves her creating space for you to do that, and facilitating the process however you indicate that she can. All of that is just fine with you. 

But she’s starting to get worried. It’s been four days, after all, and you’re just as fucked up and greasy as you were on day one. Sasha has been waiting for you to have some kind of breakthrough, remember who you are, and restart your life, but it’s taking a lot longer than she’s comfortable with. She’s known you since freshman year, which is a long time, but you’ve never been knocked down like this before. She doesn’t know what to do with you. So this evening, while you’re holed up in your bedroom with the door locked, Sasha sits on your couch and makes a phone call. 

Jean picks up on the last ring. “Hey, what’s up, girl?” 

“Hey, Jean. Are you busy?” 

“Nah, I’m just hangin’ out. Why?” 

Sasha sighs. “I don’t know. I think I need your help.” 

“With what?” 

She drops her voice to make sure that you can’t hear her on the other side of the apartment. “I don’t know what to do about (y/n).” 

“She’s still moping?” 

“Mm… Moping isn’t really the right word. She’s somewhere between sulking and full-on disintegrating. I thought she’d be done by now.” 

“Really? I’d be shocked if she was already functioning again.” 

“You would? Why?”

“Well, let’s put it this way. Let’s say you and Connie broke up because he was… I don’t even know. Something where the only option was to break up but you both still loved each other. Let’s say he’s dead, or in a coma, or something. How long would it take you to get over it?” 

“...Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

“Of course I am. Wait, so what do you want me to do?” 

“Maybe you could come over and talk to her?” 

“Yeah, of course I-” Jean sighs sharply. “Sasha, you’re the one that hasn’t been letting me or anyone else contact her for the past four days.” 

“She said she wanted to be left alone! I thought I was doing the right thing.” 

“Well… Maybe you were. I mean, space is good at first, but… yeah. If she’s falling into a pit or something, then there needs to be some kind of change. Break whatever cycle she’s in.” 

“So you’ll help me?” 

“Of course I’ll help you. Me not helping you was never on the table.” 

“Can you come over here in like… I don’t know. Now?” 

“I’ll be there in twenty.” 

Sasha sighs. “Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

“She’s just stressing me out so much. I can’t stand her like this.” 

“I know what you mean.” 

Sasha pauses. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.” 

“Okay. Bye.” 

You’re still holed up in your bedroom with the lights off watching television on your laptop when Jean arrives. You didn’t know that he was coming, so when there’s a soft knock on your bedroom door, you groan, “What is it, Sasha?” 

The doorknob slowly twists and the door opens a crack, then Jean pokes his head in through the door. 

You scowl. “Ugh. Why are  _ you _ here?” 

“Hello to you, too.” 

“What the hell do you want?” 

“...May I come in?” 

“No.” 

“Yeah, I’m coming in. And I’m gonna turn on this light.” Jean steps in and shuts the door behind him, then turns on the main light. 

You squint your eyes and moan. “Ow, fuck. Hellfire.” 

Jean looks around the room, at the state of your bed, and at the state of you. “This is much worse than I anticipated.” 

“Okay, I’ll say it again: what the fuck do you want? You’re interrupting me.” 

“I am just here to talk to you.” Jean walks up to your bed, awkwardly moves a few pieces of trash out of the way, and sits down. 

You just glare at him, your face bloated from four days of five thousand calories each. 

“So… How’re you feeling?” he asks. 

Angry silence. 

“Okay, sure. Um… do you want to maybe… talk about it?” 

More angry silence. 

“Alright, fine. Listen. Sasha called me. You’re freaking her out, and she asked for my help. That’s why I’m here. I mean, are you serious right now? Look at you. You’re better than this.  _ Everyone _ is better than this. This is the worst thing I have  _ ever  _ seen.” 

“I don’t need this.” 

“Do you want me to put you on blast right now? You smell like a grease trap, you look like shit, you’re pretty much just lying in a pile of fast food wrappers, and that t-shirt looks like you’ve been wearing it for a week and a half. You’ve completely disappeared. What the fuck happened to you?” 

You slam your laptop shut, which up until now had still been playing the show you were watching. You sit up in bed with a huff, then immediately grip your hair with your hand as a wave of pain lances through your skull. 

“There. Isn’t that better?” Jean asks patronizingly. 

“No. Now I have a fucking headache.” 

“Well, when you don’t move like that all day and eat nothing but crap, headaches can happen.” Jean scans your bedspread, then selects one of three plastic water bottles and hands it to you-- this one is still half full. 

You roughly take it and angrily consume its contents. “There. Happy?” 

“Very.” 

Jean declines to say anything else, instead staring at you expectantly, completely unfazed by your shitty mood. You keep staring at him, stirred up by the sudden disruption of your grief routine, then say: “I think I’m fucking up.” 

“Fucking up what?” 

You shrug and hug your knees into your chest, looking down at your bedspread. “My life. My choices. All that.” There’s a long silence as Jean waits for you to continue. “I think… I should’ve fought harder to stay with Levi. I feel like I just… gave up.” 

Jean nods slowly. “Hm. Well, I’m sure I haven’t heard the whole story yet, but from what I gather, it doesn’t sound like you gave up. It sounds like you kind of got backed into a corner. It doesn’t really feel like it was entirely up to you.” 

You trace circles on your bedspread with your index finger. “Up to him, then?” 

Jean shakes his head. “No. Not your fault, not his. Just something that happened.” 

You nod, puckering your lips to the side. “Well… Maybe if I was different, you know? Maybe I’m too focused on school and my career. I mean, isn’t finding a partner the goal of things?” 

“No. Who the fuck told you that?” 

“Like, every movie and TV show ever.” 

“Yeah, exactly.” Jean looks at you like you’ve suddenly lost your mind. “Life’s not a TV show. Sacrificing the structure of your entire life in the name of love isn’t realistic. Think about it. Let’s say you  _ had _ changed courses and decided not to do grad school, changing your career trajectory to stay here with Levi. Yes, you would’ve gotten that great romantic scene where you profess your undying love for each other and vow never to leave each other, and the music would swell, and the children would sing.” 

“Wait. What children?” 

“Just… all the children. All the children would sing. But what would happen after that? You never get to see what happens after the movie ends. What would happen is that you would always wonder what might have been. I mean, you gave up a high-paying, exciting career to stay in some backwater city with your college boyfriend. You would resent him, and more than that you would resent yourself.” 

“Huh.” You consider this for a while. “That was actually very wise, Jean.” 

“Try not to sound so surprised,” he deadpans. 

You sigh. “I just wish it made me feel better.” 

“Yeah.” 

“...I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.” 

“Okay. What do you want to do?” 

“Well, I want to keep watching my show.” 

“Hm… Okay.” Jean scoots to sit beside you at the head of the bed and you reopen your laptop. “What’re we watching?” 

“Love Island: Australia.” 

“Not US?” 

“The US version isn’t available on any of the streaming services I’m on.” 

“Hm. Okay. But you’re going to have to catch me up as we go. I don’t know this show at all.” 

“Okay.” You hit play and settle back into your pillows. Jean throws an arm over your shoulders like a white dad would with his teenage son to tell him ‘Good job, sport.’ You adjust yourself so that his upper arm is more comfortable on your neck, then point to one of the bikini-clad girls on the screen. “Okay, that’s Cassidy. She’s my favorite. I don’t think she’s going to win, though. She’s not having good luck.” 

Over the course of the rest of the episode, you introduce Jean to all of the contestants and explain the rules of the show. Jean is not shy about telling you that he thinks the whole premise of reality dating shows is stupid, but you can tell that he’s getting invested anyway. When the end of the episode comes, you ask, “Are you staying for another one?” 

“Yeah, sure. But on one condition.” 

“Which is...?” 

“You need to take a shower first.” 

You scoff. “Come on. No.” 

“Yes, for two reasons. One: you smell like shit and I’m about to suffocate and die; two: you’ll feel better.” 

You sigh. “But I’m so comfy…” 

“You’ll be even more comfy after a shower.” When you still don’t get up, he gets off of the bed, walks around it to your side, and grabs you by both arms to pull you off the bed. 

“Hey! Hey! Okay, fine.” You stumble to a standing position. “I’ll take a shower. Jesus, Jean. You’re being a fucking weirdo.” 

“I’m just trying to do my job.” 

Jean follows you out of your bedroom, and once you disappear into the bathroom, Sasha snaps her fingers at him from the living room and whispers, “Hey. Hey. What’s going on?” 

“Getting there. She’ll be fine,” he says softly, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Okay, good.” 

“Also, I need a trash bag.” 

“Oh, um… yeah, sure. Under the kitchen sink.” 

Jean fires finger guns at her and then goes to retrieve a trash bag. While you’re in the shower, he goes back into your bedroom and cleans things up. Anything disposable gets thrown away, even if it’s a drink or snack container that’s still half-full. He opens your windows all the way to let the fresh air in and lights the Macintosh Yankee Candle on your dresser. This already is a major improvement. He then goes into the kitchen to fix a glass of ice water and look for fruit in your fridge. He finds half a container of raspberries and a bunch of purple grapes, washes them, puts them in a bowl over a paper towel, and carries it and the glass of water into your bedroom, leaving them on your bedside table. 

While he’s in there, you come back into your bedroom in a towel and look around at the much improved state of the room, feeling confused and a little perturbed as a result. “What’s… Why did you-” 

“Did you do your skincare and brush your teeth?” 

“Um… no, not yet.” 

“Okay, well make sure you do that after you get dressed.” 

“Okay…” You grab a fresh t-shirt and pair of sweatpants from your dresser, and then go back into the bathroom to do just that. While you’re gone, Jean finishes his job by making your bed, being sure to air out the sheets as nicely as possible, and then sitting down on top of the covers to wait for you. 

You’re back after a few minutes, smelling and feeling a lot better than you did before and wearing clean clothes. However, you are of course not going to admit to Jean that the shower actually helped. Steely-faced, you observe him waiting for you on your bed, feeling very embarrassed but also very grateful that he cleaned your room for you, for both you and it are now refreshed. 

“Um… I still have to brush my hair,” you say flatly. 

“Okay.” 

You take your hair out of your towel hat and try to brush it out in front of your mirror. It’s not been thoroughly brushed in four days. One attempt, and you know that it’s hopelessly tangled. You sigh in frustration and repeatedly try to painfully yank your brush through your soaked, knotted locks. 

After watching you go at this for a while, letting out a series of frustrated, pained huffs, Jean interrupts you and says, “Okay, stop that. Give it here. And… I want the leave-in conditioner, too.” He points to a bottle on your dresser. “That one.” 

Wordlessly, you give him both and sit down on the bed with your legs folded. “I’m gonna put the show back on.” 

“Okay.” 

As the next episode of Love Island: Australia starts, Jean begins to detangle your hair from the ends. He uses a tremendous amount of the detangler he asked for, but it hurts a hell of a lot less than when you were trying to do it yourself, and he’s managing not to tear all of your hair out and leave you bald. He’s done after about ten minutes, and gets up to put your hairbrush and detangler back on your dresser. On his way back, he picks up the ice water and fruit bowl from your bedside table and hands you the glass, placing the bowl in your lap. “Thanks,” you say quietly. 

“Don’t mention it.” He sits back down next to you and leans against your headboard like you are, puts his arm around you again, and tousles your hair. 

It reminds you of Levi. That head ruffle is a classic move of his. You frown, trying not to tear up, but you do anyway. Jean looks at you, having heard you sniff. You can feel him looking at you even though you keep your eyes trained on your laptop screen. “I really miss him,” you say. 

“I know.” 

You move your fruit bowl from your lap to the bedspread, unfold your legs, and wrap your arms around Jean’s middle, pushing your cheek into the side of his chest and letting your tears catch on his shirt. He kisses the top of your head and says, “You’re gonna be okay.” 

You nod. 

Jean pauses. “Eat your fruit.” 

“Okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed that because the chapter i'm publishing next week is for me personally even more upsetting than the breakup chapter from last week LOL. i have to flex my angst muscle sometimes, right?   
> anyways i really love this chapter. jean is probably my favorite character in this story, including levi and reader-chan. he's just so sweet and funny. this chapter was also very comforting for me to reread just now because i'm currently watching banana fish and i just finished episode nine. incidentally, most of the fanfic on here about shorter wong is fucking wack so you may see some of that from me in the future at some point.   
> also please note that i currently have in the outlining stages one jean/reader long form fic and a ymir/historia long form, as well as some assorted one shots about attack on titan characters becoming friends with cats. it's my life and i can do what i want.   
> damn, my notes get longer and longer every week, don't they? see you next sunday!


	22. Wasteland, Baby!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: ALCOHOLISM, MILD RELATED VIOLENCE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey-hey-hey!!! happy sunday! angst is ahead so beware, and also:   
> TW: ALCOHOLISM, VERY MILD VIOLENCE / INTENDED VIOLENCE  
> i have a lot of other stuff to say but i'll say it after you read instead of before. so go, go, go!

Isabel is sitting at her desk at work, putting a lot of effort into pretending to look busy, when her cell phone rings at around 3 pm. She picks up the phone right away and says, “Hey, Hanji. What’s up?” 

“Hey, Iz. Sorry to call you at work; I know you’re probably busy.” 

“No, I’m not busy at all. Please take up as much of my time as possible.” 

“Um… Okay, I can’t tell if that was sarcastic or not, but I’m just going to go ahead anyway. I was wondering if you knew when Levi was going to come back to work?”

“It wasn’t sarcastic. And what are you talking about? What do you mean,  _ back _ to work?” 

“He hasn’t been in for four days. I assumed you would know when he was going to come back?” 

Isabel’s voice laces with alarm and heat starts to creep into her ears. “I haven’t  _ seen _ him in four days. I assumed he was at  _ work _ . When I tried to call him a few days ago, that’s what he said.” 

“Well, he wasn’t. Isn’t.” 

“So... he hasn’t been in since the breakup?” 

“No, and he’s not returning my calls. I was trying to give him space, but now I’m getting worried.  _ Should _ I be worried?” 

“Yes, you should be worried. Shit!” Isabel sits up in her swiveling desk chair. “I need to call Farlan. I’ll call you back, okay?” 

“Alright, no problem.” 

Isabel hangs up and dial’s Farlan’s cell number, her eyebrows knitting together in frustration and worry. He doesn’t pick up the first time, but she calls again right away and this time he picks up on the last ring. 

“Hey, Izzy. What’s up?” 

“Where’s Levi?” 

“Um. He’s… here.” 

“Here? Where’s here?” 

“Here. Home. With me.” 

“Okay, great. Why is he not at work?” 

“What?” 

“Hanji just called me saying that he hasn’t been at work for the past four days.” 

“Oh. Well… I don’t know anything about that.” 

The tempo of Isabel’s words picks up as she gets increasingly angry and alarmed. “How the fuck would you not know anything about that, Farlan? You live with him. What the fuck is going on? Is he okay?” 

“He’s fine! He’s just processing, you know? I’ve got it under control.” 

“Do you?” Isabel sighs. “Farlan, I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest. What has he been doing for the past four days?” 

“Oh, you know. Hanging around, blasting music.” 

“Oh, yeah? What artists?” 

“Well, first it was Green Day. That lasted for, like, two days. Then Frank Ocean for a while, and then a whole lot of Taylor Swift, especially Red. That was weird. And now since last night it’s been Phoebe Bridgers.” 

“Bridgers? _ Phoebe fucking Bridgers?  _ Why didn’t you call me?” 

“I didn’t know! Is that some kind of fucking signal or something?” 

“Christ, Farlan.” Isabel collapses over her desk. “I’m coming over there after work. Is there anything else I should know?” 

“Yeah, um… He’s kind of been… Drinking?” 

“He’s been drinking?” 

“A lot.” 

Isabel sits up again and starts to shout into the receiver, her eyes lit up with animalistic rage, “Jesus fucking Christ, Farlan! Why in the name of God did you not call me?” 

“I didn’t want you to worry!” 

“Worry? He’s my fucking brother! I need to know about this shit. Farlan, you have a Master’s in Psychology and a fucking Medical Degree. Why in the  _ fuck _ did you not interfere? He’s  _ still _ drinking now?” 

“My job is basically just writing prescriptions! I’m not trained in de-escalation. Besides, it’s way harder to interfere when it’s someone you know. And… I don’t know. I didn’t want to overstep my bounds with you or like, put myself where I don’t belong.” 

“Overstep your bounds? What the hell are you talking about?” 

“I… I don’t know what you’re-” 

“Okay, whatever. You know what? I can’t wait until after work. I’m taking the rest of the day off. I’ll be there in thirty minutes. And Farlan?” 

“Yeah?” 

“When I get there, do me a favor and stay out of my fucking way.” 

“Isabel, I’m so s-” 

Isabel hangs up the phone and frantically starts to gather her things. She isn’t bothering to email or notify anyone-- she’ll deal with the fallout tomorrow. She’s sure her boss will understand. These things do happen, and Isabel absolutely cannot wait another second to get to Farlan and Levi’s apartment. 

Throwing on her jacket and her bag over her shoulder, Isabel dials Hanji’s cell and pinches her phone between her ear and shoulder as she walks purposefully out of the office. Hanji picks up right away. 

“Hey. What did Farlan say?” 

“Levi is in a downward spiral with booze, and Farlan is a hapless pissbaby. I’m going over there right now.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“Listen, I know you’re at work. But if Mikasa isn’t right now, I was hoping you could call her? I would really love some help. I’m not a hundred percent sure what I’m going to be walking into.” 

“Mikasa isn’t at work and I can call her, but I could also help if you want me to. There’s other artists here today; they don’t really need me. Honestly… I would feel better if I helped too.” 

“Okay, yeah, sure. I have no problem with that. I’ll be at their apartment in 25 minutes. Meet me there, yeah?” 

“Okay. We’ll be there.”

“See you then.” Isabel hangs up the phone as she climbs into her car. She tries to keep her emotions under control as she begins the drive, but once she’s on the main highway, her thoughts run freely. The thoughts consist mostly of guilt and self-loathing. She should have known that this would happen. 

Levi has a very… complex relationship with alcohol. Isabel wouldn’t describe him as an alcoholic necessarily. He can drink casually in social situations without anything bad happening, even on a regular basis, but real problems can come up when there’s an emotional crisis of some sort. Alcohol is the crutch Levi relies on when he feels like there’s nothing else there for him. This, combined with his tendency to shut others out when something is bothering him, can be explosive. Isabel has had to intervene pretty extensively a couple times before, so at this point, she knows just what needs to be done. 

This isn’t to say that she likes doing it. Part of the reason Isabel was so thrilled when Farlan and Levi moved in together six years ago was that she assumed she wouldn’t have to worry about Levi so goddamn much. A lot of good that ended up doing. Isabel thought that living with a mental health professional would be good for Levi, especially one that he was already close to, and maybe it has been, but it isn’t doing a lick of good right now when he’s really in trouble. 

Isabel remembers the first time that all of this happened. It was about three months after Levi came to live with Isabel and her parents when his mother passed. To this day, she’s not exactly sure what brought it on three months later and not right when the change occurred, but she knows that grief can be strange, and sometimes resists logical interpretation. She’s made her peace with that lack of understanding, but she is never going to forgive herself for how long it was allowed to go on that first time. 

As a thirteen-year-old, Levi was unable to buy any booze himself, but attending public school means that things like that are never very far out of reach. Again, she’s not exactly sure how he got it, but she does know that Levi is a) very smart and b) not concerned with obeying authority. Between Isabel being eight years old and both of her parents being generally disinterested in Levi by that point, the night drinking went unnoticed for a couple weeks. Isabel found out when she was awoken one night by a noise coming from Levi’s bedroom. She went to see what was the matter, and she didn’t know what to do when she went through the door and Levi was sloppily drunk on the floor, very angry at being discovered. 

So, Isabel did what most eight-year-olds do when they’re not sure what to do-- tell her parents. Confused and afraid, she woke them up. The scene that followed was not pretty. It was dark, there was yelling, there was pushing and shoving, alcohol was confiscated, and a bedroom door was removed. 

Levi was understandably furious at his and Isabel’s father as well as Isabel’s mother, but he couldn’t help also feeling upset with Isabel herself. Even as a moody teenager, Levi understood logically that she was not to blame for all that happened, but it was a lot harder to emotionally separate the direct cause-and-effect relationship between Isabel opening the door and the door being removed. Of course, that grudge has long since dissipated. Fully grown and sober most of the time, Levi knows that the longer his little habit went on, the worse the effects would have been. To say nothing of how much worse the punishment from his guardians could have been, he might have been damaged much further. He knows that. 

There’s a lot to be said for the merits and detriments of sticking your nose in other peoples’ business. Isabel does not necessarily regret telling her parents at that time. What she regrets now, as an adult, is that she’d been in the dark for so long before she accidentally stumbled upon the problem. 

At the same time, she tries very hard not to blame the little girl who, at the end of the day, was just trying her best. All she can do now is try to be better, learn from her mistakes, and do her very best to protect her big brother going forward. And four days is far too long for him to be in that kind of state again. 

She should have known. Isabel can’t believe she didn’t call every day, that she didn’t go to their apartment, that she didn’t foresee Levi reacting to the breakup this way. She can’t believe that Farlan wasn’t any more helpful than a stranger or a layman would be, but moreover, she can’t believe that she put her trust in a third party to protect Levi. Stupid. Stupid piece of shit. 

They say that a watched pot doesn’t boil; if Isabel hadn’t taken her eyes off the pot, she could have taken it off the heat before the bubbles started to form. 

Oh, well. There’s nothing she can do about it now except intervene: personally, and as soon as possible. 

Isabel ends up driving dangerously fast, arriving at Levi and Farlan’s apartment building in twenty minutes flat. She meets Hanji and Mikasa at the front of the building, and they all go upstairs together. Isabel is a tangled fog of anxiety and fury in the shape of a woman. Hanji is more than a little freaked out and confused, yet she is still committed to whatever Isabel needs from her. Mikasa radiates steely determination like that of a soldier. 

Isabel, of course, not only knows the code to get into the building but also has a spare key to the apartment, so when the door is locked, it isn’t an issue in the slightest. Isabel walks in with her entourage, and Farlan gets off of the couch and walks across the apartment to meet her. He puts a hand on her shoulder and says, “Isabel, I’m so sorry I-” 

“Just save it, okay?” She cuts him off, angrily pushing away his hand. “Don’t touch me, don’t talk to me, don’t even look at me. Just… get out of my way, and  _ stay _ out of my way.” A dejected Farlan fades into the background as Isabel says to Hanji and Mikasa, “Okay, um… I’ve seen it all before, but I also haven’t seen it in a few years. And um… I know you guys. You guys know Levi. If you have an instinct, it’s probably correct.” 

Without another word, Isabel turns herself around and tries to open the door of Levi’s bedroom. It’s locked from the inside of course, but there’s a divet in the knob that could be used to unlock it from the outside. She roots a quarter out of her jacket pocket, sticks it in the divet, and rotates the coin to unlock the door. She sighs through her nose, steeling her nerves, and then opens the door. 

The smell of both stale and not-stale booze punches Isabel in the face before she even registers Levi on the floor. The lights are off, but Levi is so wasted that he doesn’t notice the light coming in from through the door, or that the door has been opened yet. His eyes are closed and he has headphones on, but the volume is turned up so high that Isabel can still hear the music, and recognizes the song that Levi is mumbling along to: “ _ So I will wait for the next time you want me / Like a dog with a bird at your door. _ ” Bridgers, all right. Isabel takes a deep breath and says, “Levi?” 

He doesn’t hear her, which isn’t surprising given the sheer volume of the music. 

Isabel bites her lip and approaches. She reaches out and puts one hand on his forearm. 

“ _ Shit! _ ” Levi shouts, and clumsily jumps away as he opens his eyes. He turns to look at her, face flushed with drunkenness, dark t-shirt marked with miscellaneous stains. He is not pleased. Taking off his headphones, he slurs, “Y’scared the shit outta me! What’re you doing here?” He picks up a half-drunk bottle of whiskey from the floor next to him. “Y’here to drink?” 

“No, actually. In fact, I think I’m just going to take this…” Isabel reaches over to try to seize the bottle, but Levi jerks it away and grabs onto her wrist, roughly pushing her hand back towards her. He shoves her away with one hand and says, “Not here to drink, get outta my room. And don’t fuckin’ touch me.” Levi puts his headphones back on and shuts his eyes, leaning back into the wall and continuing the sing-along: “ _...and there’s something I’m supposed to say / But can’t for the life of me remember what it is / And if I could give you the moon / I would give you the moon…”  _

While Levi is singing, Isabel turns her head and says to Hanji, who is more than a little alarmed: “Hanji, do me a favor. Go into the kitchen and get a large cup or a bowl, fill it with ice water, and bring it to me.” 

“Okay, got it.” Hanji leaves the room, grateful for a task, and returns within half a minute with a huge glass of ice water. She hands it to Isabel, who says, “Thanks,” and then immediately turns back around and throws the contents into Levi’s face. 

_ “Ah, what the fuck?” _ Levi bellows, disoriented. Isabel takes the opportunity to confiscate the bottle and grab another mostly empty one that was lying nearby. Dripping, Levi sloppily pulls off his headphones for the last time and stands up. Or rather, he tries to stand, but immediately has to lean most of his weight into the bed to avoid falling over. “You’re fucking waterboarding me? What the fuck!” 

“You’re sobering up starting right now. This has gone on long enough.” 

“You need to stay the fuck outta my business. Gimme back that fucking bottle  _ and get the fuck out!” _ Levi approaches Isabel looking like he’s going to shove her and snatch the bottle away again, but before Isabel even has time to be threatened by the imminent assault, Mikasa comes in from behind her, grabs Levi’s wrist, twists his arm behind his back, and slams him face-first into the bedspread. “What the  _ fuck? _ ” he shouts, his voice muffled. 

Keeping Levi pinned down, Mikasa says, “This is fucking pitiful, Levi. Don’t take it out on her. She’s trying to help you.” 

He turns his head to the side. “Fine. Just fuckin’... let me go.” 

Tentatively, Mikasa releases her hold on Levi and he straightens up, still leaning one hand on the bedspread. “Can you just leave me alone, okay? I’m fine.” 

“Clearly not…” Hanji says quietly. She hasn’t seen this from him before, at least not this bad. She already knew that Levi drinks a lot when he’s upset, but this… this is new. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Isabel begins. “First, you’re going to shower and put on clean clothes. Then, you’re going to sleep this off. And I’m going to keep my fucking eyes on you, yeah?” 

Levi sighs. “If I take a goddamn shower, will you leave me the fuck alone?” 

“No, I will not. Were you even listening to what I said?” 

“Well, I don’t wanna. Gimme back my fuckin’ whiskey.” 

“Not a question. Go now.” As Isabel says this, Mikasa takes a single step forward. 

Levi relents, not wanting his shoulder wrenched again. “Fine, fine. Jesus Christ.” Levi tries to make his way to the bathroom, but he can’t walk very well. 

“Walk him?” Isabel says to Mikasa. 

“Yeah.” Mikasa lugs Levi out of the bedroom. Isabel and Hanji follow them out and go to the kitchen. 

Isabel goes under the sink and procures a trash bag, then hands it to Hanji. “If you could just clean up his room some? Look for booze and just throw it away along with any trash.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Hanji pauses. “Is this… a regular thing? Something common that I haven’t been noticing this whole time?” 

“No.” Isabel sighs and rubs her forehead with one hand. “This kind of thing is exceedingly rare. He only gets like this when there’s a major issue. I’ll tell you  _ all _ about it later, if you want.” 

“Okay.” Hanji laughs wryly. “Damn.” 

“What?” 

“I always thought shorty was indestructible.” With this, Hanji goes off to the bedroom to carry out her responsibilities. 

Left to her own devices, Isabel figures it’s a good idea to scour the kitchen and living room for any other alcohol that might be around. The next twenty-four hours will be much easier if there’s not even any booze around for Levi to access. 

In the cabinets, Isabel finds a bottle of vermouth, two bottles of wine, a handle of vodka, and another bottle of whiskey. All of it goes into a trash bag. There’s an open bottle of wine and three beers in the fridge. Trash. There’s a bottle of Marsala, a bottle of Rum, and a bottle of Sherry all for cooking in the pantry. Trash, trash, trash. 

Satisfied with the kitchen, Isabel moves on to the living room. Farlan is there, sitting on the couch. She’s not expecting there to be anything in this room, but she gives it a cursory examination anyway, eyeing tables and opening the television cabinet just to be sure that there’s nothing in there but obsolete electronics and DVDs. Isabel is not acknowledging that Farlan is even in the room. 

Farlan is watching Isabel move. He didn’t watch what just happened in Levi’s bedroom, but he was able to listen. He’s heard stories from Isabel about how she handles Levi when he’s going off the deep end, but he’s never been around to witness it in person. Farlan already knew that Isabel’s anger at him was justified, but now he has access to all of the motivations behind it. 

Isabel’s love for her brother is so powerful that in a situation like this, everything else falls into the background. She’s angry, but she’s also terrified. She’s like a bear guarding a cub-- if anyone tries to enter the cave, it’s universally understood that it’s that person’s fault that they got attacked, and not the bear’s fault for defending her territory. By extension, Farlan knows that he’s entirely to blame for Isabel lashing out at him. It’s not her fault that she got the rug pulled out from under her and now has to claw her way back to a feeling of security and relative control. 

And no matter how angry Isabel is at Farlan, he also can’t miss how guilty she feels about this whole thing. It’s all over her face, and radiating off of her in tense waves as she moves around the apartment. After a while, Isabel sits down on the opposite end of the couch from Farlan. She still doesn’t look at him; she stares straight ahead and tries to take a deep breath. She puts her trash bag down in front of her, the liquor bottles within it clinking together almost musically, and folds her hands in front of her mouth. 

Isabel’s auburn hair is frazzled from stress and her white blouse and black slacks that she wore to work are disheveled. Her eyes look hauntingly dead, and for a moment, Farlan isn’t sure that she’s going to say anything at all. But then Isabel blinks, and tears start to run down her face. She folds her arms over her knees and leans her head down into her lap, sobbing quietly, almost silently. 

Farlan moves closer to her with uncertainty, then tentatively places one hand on her upper back. Isabel sniffs loudly and whimpers, “I fucked up, Farlan.” 

“What?” Farlan shakes his head. “How did you fuck up?” 

Isabel breathes heavily, her face buried into the crook between her knees. “Four days. Four fucking days I wasn’t here. Four fucking days he was like this and I didn’t know and I wasn’t here.” 

“That’s not your fault,” Farlan says quietly. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I should have done something. Anything. I should have called you; I don’t know why I didn’t.” 

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter whether you’re here or not or what you did; he’s my responsibility. I let him down. I let myself down. I let you down. I let his mom down.” 

Farlan soothingly rubs his hand up and down Isabel’s upper back and whispers, “Isabel, he’s not your responsibility. He’s a grown man. And you can support him and look after him all you want, but at the end of the day, his choices are his. You’re not responsible for the dysfunction of another person, even if he  _ is _ your brother.” 

Isabel sits up, and Farlan gets a good look at her tear-stained, distraught face, but she doesn’t make eye contact with him. “I know that, but I don’t…  _ know _ that. You know?” 

“Yeah.” 

For a moment, it seems like the storm is passing, but then Isabel turns her head to look at Farlan. Her eyes fill up with tears again, and she frowns as she throws her arms around him and buries her face in the crook of his neck. Farlan holds her tight and rubs her back with both hands. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Isabel sobs. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I forgive you. Please don’t worry.” 

As Isabel allows herself to be comforted by her best friend, she is unaware of two things. First, she doesn’t know that with each passing second it’s getting more and more difficult for Farlan not to kiss her, which he’s determined not to do at a time like this. Second, she doesn’t know that Levi has been out of the shower for several minutes now, and has been listening to her and Farlan through the closed bathroom door. 

The immense, gut-wrenching guilt lancing through Levi’s chest is emphasized by his high blood alcohol content. When he steps through the door with a towel around his waist, Mikasa and Hanji are leaning against a nearby wall. He doesn’t want to meet their eyes, so he looks at the ground as he says, “I’m… y’know.” 

“No,” Mikasa says. “Say it.” 

“I’m sorry.” Levi rolls his eyes. “About all this.” 

Mikasa grunts and Hanji says, “It’s alright.” She cocks her head. “Come on. Let’s get you into bed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok first things first, let's talk about this. i originally did not plan on this chapter being so dark and intense. the basic premise was laid out for satire, but what happened was when i gave isabel the point of view, she completely took over and wrote the scene for me. isabel did not want comedy out of this chapter. she was very worried and i of course did not want to offend her so this chapter is what happened. i'm not anticipating anything getting like this for the rest of the story, but honestly at this point, who knows?   
> second things second, this is aot fanfiction first and foremost, so i'd feel remiss if i didn't address ch138. all that i have to say is that i am Fucked.   
> third things third, i need a beta reader!! a beta reader, for those who don't know, is basically someone that an author gives drafts to before they are posted so that they can proofread them. my frienderino who usually proofreads for me is drowning in schoolwork and doesn't really have time for it anymore unfortunately. i'm looking for someone who can proofread for grammar stuff and also help me out with pacing and character consistency, and in return, i give you beta credit in the main story summary. so if anyone is interested please drop a comment below or feel free to dm me on tumblr @katiethebiscuit.   
> last things last, see you next sunday!


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